The Heavens Open
by Stormkpr
Summary: The third book in my trilogy. The X-men have retreated to space and will attempt to save mutantkind and all of earth. Not suitable for children. COMPLETED
1. Default Chapter

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

Introductions and Disclaimers:

1. This fanfic is the third book in a yet-to-be-named series of mine, which started with a fic called "X-men: Friends of Humanity" and continued with "Freedom." This story is probably not going to make a lot of sense if you haven't already read the first two books in the series, so please do check them out if you haven't already. If you're not reading this from fanfiction.net and you want to find my earlier works, then follow this link to my friend Leigh's site:

http://geocities.com/loopeleigh/

Then just click on links to Stormkeeper's fiction. 

2. I will include a _very _brief synopsis of the first two fics at the bottom of this section, just for the heck of it. I'll also throw in a 'cast of characters' list---so just scroll on down to the bottom of this page if you want to read it.

3. The rating for this series is **R**. Probably not every segment here warrants that rating, but this book does contain profanity, love scenes, and in general "adult situations", so please do not read if any of the above offends you.

4. I don't own the X-men (but I can dream, right….) and this series is purely for entertainment purposes. I'm making no money off this.

And now, on to our feature presentation:

*************************

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

There comes a time, 'tween life and death  
When all men stop to catch their breath  
We ask the stars 'Why?' we question our lot  
The heavens open wide, and reply, 'Why not?'  
--H. McCoy, X-Men 11  


PART 1

We have this board game that we occasionally play. We've been playing a lot of it lately, as we now live like some sort of space age castaways, huddling together in one room of our starship to conserve our dwindling resources. This board game, which we often play while sitting in a circle on the floor, asks you all sorts of questions about your beliefs, your thoughts, your likes and dislikes. Recently, I was given the question, "What does the word HOME mean to you?"

__

Home.

That's a tough one. You see, for the past several years, I haven't had one. Along with the rest of the X-men, I have divided my life between two places: a cold, metallic starship built by the vicious Friends of Humanity, a starship which we renamed "Freedom"; and a gorgeous, lush paradise known as An'zhina, a moon which rivals any Hawaiian vacation spot. So is my home somewhere between Freedom and An'zhina?

But I can't really talk about my present homes---be they on board the starship Freedom or the balmy moon known as An'zhina---without thinking about the past. Hank taught me that, in a roundabout sort of way. "The past predicts the future," he once said. I have no idea if he was quoting some famous psychological study or a renowned piece of literature; with Hank, you never knew. But a lot of the sayings and phrases that fall from his lips become embedded into the folds of my mind, returning at the oddest moments. This one popped into my mind as I struggled to answer the question about "home." I know what Hank said is true, though, and maybe I am not as free from my past as I like to think. 

I didn't grow up in a home that offered me anything resembling love, security or support. I realize that in all the time I've been writing about the X-men's lives and our adventures over the past few years, I've hardly mentioned my biological family and the home in which I grew up. I've always felt that those memories are better off buried, and I had years of therapy trying to shake off the self-loathing I learned growing up. No point in unearthing memories of parents who didn't want me or accept me the way I am, of a family that literally threw me out the door. 

Of course we X-men were **all** cast out --- from earth, our home planet. The whole reason why we've been living on board this starship, returning occasionally to our adopted home of An'zhina, is because the Friends of Humanity kidnapped us three years ago. We wrested control of this ship from them---after they'd managed to torture and humiliate us. 

We always were a group of freaks and rejects, and now are even more so, having been banished from mother earth. We X-men have spent the last few years on rescue missions to and from earth, preventing FOH from unleashing deadly viruses and saving the mutants whom FOH has forced into their slave camps, brining them to the refuge that is An'zhina. 

But asking me, "What does the word HOME mean to you?" truly brings up more questions than answers. What exactly does the word "home" mean anyway? I guess it's not really true to say that I don't have one. Since my return to the X-men over three years ago---after a seven year hiatus---I have found my sense of security, comfort, and belonging within the X-men. Wherever in the galaxy we happen to be, I feel at home with all the others and I love them dearly. Hank, Jubilee, Gambit, Rogue, Northstar…..

Northstar. 

My thought pattern abruptly stops here and all the warm fuzzy feelings of security I'd been experiencing now vanish. For Jean-Paul Beaubier, better known as Northstar, is my lover and he's just been diagnosed with HIV.

I don't know where to go from here or what will happen next. My sense of chaos about my own personal future is mirrored by what's happening on our mission and with our starship. In a freak accident, we X-men have lost all of our dilithium and are heading towards an inhabited planet rich in dilithium. We need more dilithium if we're to make it back to our haven An'zhina in one piece. 

Apparently we plan to beg, steal or borrow this precious substance from those who run the planet. I don't even know what the plan is or when we're to arrive at this mysterious planet, and part of me doesn't care because all I can dwell on is Jean-Paul and the fact that the man I love is going to die.

***************

The starship Freedom continued its silent journey towards a blue-green planet not unlike the one they had been exiled from. The planet contained a healthy supply of dilithium, the substance they required to power their vessel. The X-men's supplies of the precious material were almost depleted and they needed for more if they were to make it back to their haven on An'zhina. 

The survival of the 21 people on board Freedom depended upon obtaining more dilithium. Those 21 people consisted of 19 mutants and 2 non-mutants. The mutants were Cyclops, Storm, Jean Grey, Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, Iceman, Beast, Jubilee, Nightcrawler, Northstar, Aurora Borealis, Shaman, Cannonball, Dani Moonstar, Wraith, Panda, Charlotte (the daughter of Jean and Cyclops) and Rory (AKA Aurora, the daughter of Jubilee.) The two non-mutants were a former FOH soldier named Mark Burroughs and Christopher, the son of Jean and Cyclops. The two other children on board the ship had inherited their parents' mutant statuses; Christopher had not.

"No nap!"

Jubilee's daughter Aurora, who was now two years and three months old, expressed her sentiments to her mother, her little arms flailing. One of them held a wooden toy that Wolverine had carved for her. Observing her daughter's pouting spree, Jubilee -- along with most of the rest of the X-men – sat in Freedom's mess hall. Because their dilithium supplies were dwindling, the X-men had closed off most of the rooms of the ship and had moved sleeping bags, cots, and most personal possessions to the largest room, the mess hall. Jubilee put a finger to her lips, signaling her daughter to be quiet. "Rory, shhhhhh," she implored.

"Want play!" Rory continued, ignoring the direction from her mother. "No nap!"

"No, sweetie," Jubilee said. "It's time for you to take a nap, like your cousins," she said, gesturing at Scott and Jean's two children, both of whom were sound asleep in a corner. Scott was seated upon a cushion on the floor near the two children, reading a book from An'zhina. He looked up at Jubilee's exchange with her daughter and smiled patiently. Fortunately, both of his children were still asleep, and even more fortunately to his viewpoint, Charlotte didn't display the rebellious streak of Aurora. Cyclops's son, Christopher was shaping up to be an entirely different story, however. 

Aurora continued to demand that someone play with her. Jubilee felt very tired and wished for a break from the child's antics. During a normal day, Jubilee got plenty of time to herself, to pursue whatever hobbies and interests she wanted, as one of the other X-men was always available to baby-sit. However with so much of Freedom now closed down, getting away from the child, even for a bit, was proving difficult.

`I wish Bobby was here,' Jubilee thought. `He's good at handling Rory when she gets in a mood like this.' Jubilee looked around the spacious room, puzzled. She dimly recalled that Bobby had headed for the greenhouse….a while ago, **quite** a while ago, in fact. Could he still be there? There weren't that many plants that needed so much attention. 

`Maybe he just wants some time away from the rest of the group,' she mused. 'Maybe he's hiding out in engineering.' Jubilee noticed that Northstar, too, was absent and she bit her lip to suppress a giggle. After what she'd observed the previous night in the bathroom from Storm and Wolverine, she guessed that maybe Bobby and Northstar were using one of the few open rooms, such as engineering or the laboratory, for more illicit purposes.

"Okay, Rory, if you're not going to take your nap, that's fine but Mommy's too tired to play with you right now," Jubilee said to the girl. She hadn't slept well the previous night and truly was not up to frolicking around.

"I'll play with her!" Sam Guthrie volunteered. He had just returned to the mess hall from his shift on the main bridge. The X-men all took turns at the main bridge, monitoring the ship's sensors and ensuring they traveled through space undetected and undisturbed. Not that there would be much they could do now if they were to be attacked. With their dilithium supply almost completely evaporated, they simply had to hope to avoid a confrontation with FOH --- they didn't even have enough energy to even fire a photon torpedo now. Freedom did have a cloaking device, but the X-men knew it was not inconceivable that FOH could again develop technology to detect their cloak. Therefore, one X-man was to be on "bridge duty" at all times.

"Knock yourself out," Jubilee said to Cannonball. Sam merrily picked up Rory, swung her around a few times as the child yelped with glee. Rory then eagerly led him towards her toys.

Several moments later, Charlotte woke from her nap. Groggily she toddled over towards her father, as if to cuddle with him. Scott smiled, always pleased with his daughter, his heart full of love for her. Beneath his visor, however, his eyes grew wide with alarm and he sucked in a gasp of air when he saw Charlotte's face contort with dismay.

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" Scott asked. "What is it?"

"Sad!! Uncle Bobby sad!" Charlotte proclaimed.

Scott looked around and saw that several people were within earshot. With most of the ship shut down, pretty much everyone was forced to congregate in the mess hall. Jean Grey was absent from the room as she was now on bridge duty; other than her, only Bobby, Northstar, Jeanne-Marie, Hank, and Panda were not in the mess hall.

"Bobby sad, and Jean-Paul sad and Jeanne-Marie sad!!!" Charlotte continued, her voice rising with panic. Most people in the large room turned their heads towards the girl.

"Charlotte, sshhhhhh," Scott said, pressing a finger to his lips. "Remember what we spoke about, pumpkin? You have a very special gift to be able to tell what other people are feeling inside. But remember how we said that feelings are private? It is not nice to tell everyone what other people are feeling inside."

Charlotte was not concerned with her father's admonitions. She knew only that she had never before sensed her Uncle Bobby quite this panicky, quite this full of dread. She had to go comfort him! The toddler made her way towards the door.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?" Scott asked, rising to his feet after Charlotte.

"Gotta go be with Bobby!"

Rogue and Gambit were playing cards at one of the tables along with Shaman and Wraith. They, as everyone else in the room, noticed Charlotte's exchange with her father. They also knew that Charlotte's empathic abilities were potent----and accurate.

"What do ya think's wrong with Bobby?" Rogue asked, setting her cards down.

"I don't know, chere," Gambit replied, his voice full of genuine concern. He and Rogue had built up a strong friendship with Bobby over the past few years; both members of the couple were quite fond of the Iceman. "But Gambit t'ink it be serious wit' the way the kid be carryin' on."

"Maybe we better go check in on him," Rogue said, pushing her chair away from the table. She knew Remy was right; Charlotte did not usually broadcast the emotions of others unless they were intense. The empathic child was obviously very distressed over Bobby's emotional state. 

"Let's go," Gambit said, rising from his chair along with Rogue. "Excuse us," he said to Shaman and Wraith.

Cyclops and his daughter had just exited the mess hall. Rogue and Gambit caught up to them in the hallway.

"What you t'ink be wrong?" Gambit asked.

"I don't know," Cyclops replied. The tall adults barely kept pace with Charlotte who was racing down the hall. "But Charlotte doesn't usually get this agitated. She's **really** worried about him."

"Then I am too!" Rogue declared. The procession passed the greenhouse and found that Bobby was not in there. That left only three rooms that Bobby could be in: the bridge, engineering or sick bay. Scott tapped his communicator and confirmed with Jean that Bobby was not on the bridge. 

Just as Cyclops, Charlotte, Rogue and Gambit reached sick bay, the doors to the room swung aside and Jeanne-Marie Beaubier stomped out. Her face was red and her hair disheveled. "I cannot take any more of this!" she announced, her voice hoarse. "I cannot! God must **hate** us! We are cursed!" 

"Where are you going, Jeanne-Marie?" Northstar called out from the infirmary as his sister headed down the hall. Northstar's voice sounded oddly steady and calm.

"I don't know!" she answered, not breaking her stride away from sick bay. 

Panda then swiftly followed Jeanne-Marie, calling after her. "Wait up!" she shouted. The two women disappeared down the hall, one after the other. 

After witnessing that exchange, Rogue, Gambit, Cyclops and Charlotte tentatively stepped through the sliding doors of sick bay. They found Iceman, Northstar, and Beast standing around, looking as if a hurricane had just pummeled its way through. 

Gambit eyed each of the three men, quickly sizing up the situation. Hank looked concerned and saddened, though Gambit saw a hint of something else in his old friend's eyes. Determination, maybe----or something like that, Gambit decided. Bobby perhaps had been crying a while ago but now looked depressed, shocked and fearful…though not as positively hysterical as Jeanne-Marie. Northstar's expression was hardest to read – partly, Gambit mused, because he didn't know the Canadian as well and partly because Jean-Paul generally did a commendable job of masking his feelings and thoughts. 

Northstar and Hank looked back at the four who had entered the room. Bobby's gaze was directed downwards as if he hadn't even noticed the intrusion. Little Charlotte broke the ice by running up to Bobby and hugging him. 

"It okay, Uncle Bobby. No sad. We be okay," she insisted, trying to comfort him.

Bobby limply reached a hand down to pat the child, closing his eyes. Gambit saw how Bobby's lips trembled. 

Cyclops looked around, not knowing what to say. "Did we come at a bad time?" he managed. Gambit managed to keep from rolling his eyes at Cyclops's words.

"Yes," Northstar replied, sounding cold and distant. "If you do not mind, we would like to be alone. Excuse us, please."

Cyclops looked at Hank, and Hank slowly nodded. "We thank you for your concern," Hank said. "But at this time, we must insist on being left alone."

Obeying the request, Scott, Rogue and Gambit turned to leave. Charlotte, however, continued to cleave to Bobby. "Go on, Char," Bobby said quietly, nudging the child away.

"Come here, pumpkin," Cyclops gestured for his daughter. "You can see that Bobby is okay. We need to leave them alone."

Charlotte stomped her foot. "Not true! Bobby **not** okay! Bobby sad."

Scott felt surprise at his daughter's obstinacy; Charlotte was usually very agreeable. He held out his hand towards her and gently managed to coax her into leaving sick bay.

**************

There wasn't much conversation among the four who left sick bay. Cyclops gently reassured his daughter that despite whatever was bothering Bobby, he obviously was in no immediate danger. 

Rogue and Gambit walked a few steps behind the father-daughter pair. Once they reached the small greenhouse, Gambit cocked his head towards the door. Privacy was now at a premium and the greenhouse's large window indicated that no one was inside the room.

"Bobby had a look on his face like his best friend just died!" Rogue said, once she and her husband were behind the doors of the greenhouse.

Gambit nodded, his eyes towards the floor. 

"Okay, come clean. I can tell from the look on your face that you got a good idea what's goin' on," Rogue demanded.

Gambit again nodded somberly. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Gambit got a guess. I t'ink Northstar jus' been diagnosed wit' a disease. I t'ink maybe it be AIDS." Rogue gasped and Gambit paused. He then explained his rationale. "Dat's what it all add up to. Hank was dere wit' dem in the lab. I bet he been testin' Jean-Paul ever since we get rescued from FOH. We know FOH raped him." Though Northstar had not shared that fact with anyone other than those he needed to---his sister, his lover, and Hank because Hank was his doctor----Gambit astutely had surmised the truth. "We know dose FOH bastards got and carry lots of dose type of diseases. 'Bout enough time's past since we been captured dat an infection could show up. An' you saw how Jeanne-Marie be havin' a break down outside of sick bay an how she say God is against us. I t'ink Hank jus' told them dat Northstar's test came back positive. If Gambit had to make a bet, dat be my wager."

Rogue put her hands to her cheeks. "Oh Remy. That can't be it. Bobby will be devastated! And it's so unfair! He didn't do anything to deserve it. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it's something other than AIDS."

"Gambit t'ink, from talkin' wit' Hank and Panda and Shaman, dat dey be able to cure 'bout any other type of disease. AIDS be the one dat dey still got no cure for. Shaman can use his powers to heal but he's not been able to heal someone wit' AIDS." Gambit shook his head. "If it was somet'in else, Bobby and Jeanne-Marie wouldn't be freakin' out like dis."

"But Jean-Paul looked calm."

"Dat jus' be the way he is, chere. He keepin' it to himself."

Rogue then gasped again as a thought struck her. She reached for one of her husband's hands. "Remy! What if it ain't Northstar who's sick? What if it's Bobby!" She then quickly added, "I mean, I love them both but…but…." She didn't need to say anything more; both she and Gambit had quite the soft spot for Bobby. Rogue recently had recurring dreams—fantasies, really---- of her and Gambit being parents, and of having Bobby play the part of the adoring Uncle. He was so good with Jubilee's and Scott and Jean's children. Rogue then quickly backtracked. "Well, it can't be. If Bobby had AIDS, we'd know by now; it wouldda shown up on some test. He ain't been with anyone but Jean-Paul since we've known him, right?"

"Well…." Gambit began, "remember Ceti III?" he asked, referring to the planet on which he, Iceman and Wolverine had been forced to work as slaves, after FOH had captured them. Gambit had figured out, though Bobby had never told him, that Bobby had slept with one of their fellow captives a few times there. Gambit shared a lot with Rogue and he had mentioned Bobby's fling to her before. She nodded in recognition. "But I don't t'ink dat's it," Gambit continued. "Dat was a long time ago. I t'ink if he caught anyt'ing dere, it show up long before now."

Rogue kept turning over ideas in her head, hoping and wishing it were something else. But she knew her husband's senses and intuition were too strong and he was usually right about matters such as these. Her heart continued to sink.

"What do we do, Remy? Bobby's gonna be just crushed. He's gonna be devastated."

Gambit took Rogue into an embrace, wishing he could offer her---and ultimately Bobby----more comfort than this. "Gambit wish he knew," he said, a lump forming in his throat. "Chere, if you ever….ever got sick with somet'in dat lead to….death, I—" Gambit had to pause to collect himself and steady his voice. He held Rogue even harder against himself. "Can't even t'ink about it," he said, shaking his head. "Can't even t'ink how crazy I'd be."

*************

Jean Grey's bridge duty shift was about half way finished. She heard the doors slide aside and smiled to see her husband and children enter. Charlotte scrambled up to her mother for a hug; Scott carried Christopher.

"Mommy!" Charlotte called. "Uncle Bobby very sad!"

Jean looked up at Scott. He usually did not interrupt her bridge duty shift, nor did he like his shift to be interrupted; Cyclops took the duty of monitoring space, as he took all of his duties, seriously. 

"Is something wrong?" Jean asked. She could feel her daughter's sincere distress.

Scott nodded. "Something is wrong---I just don't know how serious it is. And nothing I say is comforting her." Scott then went on to describe what had just taken place. Jean listened intently as she cared a great deal for Bobby. She also knew that although the fact of Bobby being gay made Scott uncomfortable, her husband did share her caring for Bobby too, in the way that Cyclops cared about all the members of his team. 

"So what do you think it is?" Scott asked when he was finished relaying the events. "I mean, is it something that I, as the team's leader, need to take action on?"

Jean smiled and knew that Storm would not hesitate to remind Cyclops that he was the team's **co**-leader. Scott then continued, "What would you do, Jean?" 

"Well, Scott I think at this point all you can do is go up to Bobby and ask him if he's alright and if there's anything you can do to help." Jean was touched, as always, by Scott's regard for her. Despite what others might say, he truly **wanted** to be a good leader----or co-leader---and to shake off his reputation as being too strict. He cared about the team's well-being and not just from the standpoint of wanting the group to run efficiently. And he honestly valued Jean's advice, often taking her opinion on any matter. "From what Northstar said, whatever it is he does not want to discuss it now. But perhaps Bobby or Jeanne-Marie might want to."

"Jeanne-Marie seemed extremely distressed," Scott said. "I saw Panda go off after her, maybe to comfort her." Christopher stirred in his arms, wanting to be set down. Scott gently lowered the boy to the floor, and Charlotte leapt off her mother's lap to fuss over her brother.

Jean nodded, unsurprised that Charlotte's worry had been over Bobby and the girl had not said anything about Jeanne-Marie's condition. Charlotte had bonded with "Uncle Bobby" whereas Jeanne-Marie stayed away from others, especially the children. FOH had taken Jeanne-Marie's own son away from her. "I would recommend that you also ask her if there's anything you can do to help her," Jean said. "When I'm done with my shift, I'll talk to her, if you prefer." Although Jean could not say that she was close to the Canadian woman, they had bonded in a way. Years ago, when the X-men had rescued the Alpha Flight survivors from FOH, Jeanne-Marie had poured out every detail about the terrible ordeal to Jean.

Scott nodded. "I would appreciate that." He paused, "Jean, I don't mean to sound as if I'm gossiping, but do you have any idea what might be wrong with Bobby?"

Jean's lips twitched with a smile. Scott always strove to do the right thing and he knew gossiping was wrong. Even with his own wife he would hesitate to talk about the personal business of others. She then drew a breath. "I'm not really sure, Scott. My hunch is that maybe it has to do with something with Northstar, given that the two people closest to him are really shaken up. But any guessing would be just that----guesses."

The door to the bridge then slid aside again, and Wolverine entered. "Hope I ain't interrupting anything," he said. 

"You're quite early for your shift," Cyclops said. After the words were out, he realized that they came across sounding far more harsh than he'd intended. He wanted only to express curiosity at Wolverine's early visit to the bridge, nothing more. But he knew he sounded abrasive, as if he'd even been questioning Wolverine's motives for entering the bridge during Jean's shift. Scott was long, long past the days of jealousy and fear that Jean might leave him for Wolverine. Besides, everyone knew that Wolverine was back with Storm now and the two seemed to be truly trying to make it work this time. Scott would have to admit that he was glad of that fact.

"Don't owe you an explanation," came Wolverine's blunt reply.

"I think I can guess, Logan," Jean said, with a warm smile, trying to diffuse the inevitable tension in the room between the two men. "You probably are going crazy with the lack of privacy on board the ship now, and you wanted to get away from everyone. So you came here to offer to take over the remainder of my bridge duty shift just so you can be alone."

Logan allowed a slight smile. Jean still had an effect on him; there was just something about her….and always would be, as far as he was concerned. But he made an effort to brush it aside. `Storm. I'm with Storm now and I love her. I ain't wastin' anymore time chasin' after something I ain't gonna have.' Storm was tangible and real, and he did indeed love her.

"You got it right," Wolverine said. "Can't wait till we get to this planet so I don't gotta spend all damn day sittin' in the mess hall with ten other people." The X-men had been forced to close down the gym to conserve dilithium and many members of the team, used to training every day, were experiencing a sort of withdrawal. Some had taken to exercising---jogging and lifting weights----in the corridors or around the mess hall, dodging various tables, chairs, and children.

Cyclops looked at one of the monitors. "Should be there in less than 24 hours. Our sensors haven't picked up any starships approaching us. Though it does appear the people on the planet have some degree of technology, from what we can tell that doesn't include any ships capable of warp drive." As he spoke, Christopher crawled over towards Wolverine and tugged at his pants leg. The children all regarded Wolverine as a big teddy bear, distressed as he might've been at that thought. Today was a rare day; he did not acknowledge the boy or take him into his arms.

"There are millions of minds on that planet," Jean said.   


"Any overall impressions?" Scott asked. He noticed Christopher wanting to be acknowledged by Logan, and he bent down and swooped up his son in his arms. Christopher proceeded to tug on his father's visor. Scott firmly but gently stayed his son's hand.

"My first impression is that it's a lot like earth. Many people with minds going in many different directions. And many sad people too, much sadness and anger. But a lot of happiness too."

"She's done a great job at learning to control her empathic powers," Scott said, looking at Charlotte. None would ever forget Charlotte's traumatized reaction at encountering the billions of minds on earth and feeling their mental agony. 

"She got a good teacher," Wolverine said.

"I miss the Professor," Jean then stated. Thinking of Charlotte's early mastery of her powers brought Charles Xavier to the forefront of Jean's mind. "He'd be so happy to see how well the kids are doing."

"And I think especially thrilled with how well Charlotte can control her powers," Scott said, full of pride over his daughter. He knew the Professor was impressed with his namesake. "He does admire strong minds."

"I hope things go smoothly once we get to this planet," Jean said quietly. "It just kills me to think of my parents, the rest of my family and the Professor going crazy at how overdue we are."

"Chuck'll comfort 'em," Wolverine said. "He knows the kinda stuff we face and he knows we're gonna be okay."

"Your parents listen to him and respect him," Scott said. "And they, too, have seen all the adventures we've lived through. Deep down they have to know we can handle whatever is thrown at us."

The three continued talking along those lines for a bit. Even Wolverine took part, his desire to be alone having lessened somewhat. But after a while, Scott, Jean and their children did leave the bridge so that Wolverine could have it to himself. Scott and Jean then made their way to the mess hall for lunch, having forgotten their discussion of Bobby's current mental state. They had no idea how much the cause of Bobby's anguish would end up impacting their lives forever.

*****************

Hank brought us lunch. We hadn't left the laboratory since receiving Jean-Paul's terrible diagnosis and I was really lost as to how much time had passed. In some ways, it felt like mere minutes; in other ways, it felt like days.

"The rest of the team has completed their mid-day victuals but I procured food for you as well. Sandwiches which include lettuce and tomatoes from the greenhouse. You should be proud of your gardening skills, Bobby," Hank said, handing us a tray which included glasses of water and steaming bowls of soup too. I looked at the food on the tray as if it were made of wax.

"I'm not hungry," I mumbled. I felt hunger pangs from my belly but my mouth and head felt as if stuffed with soggy cotton.

"Nor am I," Jean-Paul said.

My eyes widened at Jean-Paul's words. "But you should eat!" I realized, turning towards him. I didn't yet know much about AIDS but I knew that people with the disease tended to lose a ton of weight. "We have to keep your weight and your strength up. You need food!"

Jean-Paul rolled his eyes as if I spoke gibberish. His words stung, sounding as if he was speaking to a child. "Robere, please. It's not like I have AIDS yet. I've just been diagnosed with the virus. I don't even show any symptoms yet and I am not going to waste away before your eyes."

"I'm just concerned about you!" I insisted, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Hank was quietly returning to the part of sick bay where he had his laboratory. I was starting to suspect that he hadn't left it since he broke the news to Jean-Paul and I.

Jean-Paul didn't respond to those words. I moved to sit back down next to him on one of the beds. I tried to put an arm around him but he jerked his body away. "Jean-Paul," I began, "please don't push me away like this. You know I love you. Don't shut me out. We'll find a way to deal with it together. We **have** to face it together."

He looked down, not turning his head in my direction or responding to my pleas. He was silent for a while. Then he quietly said, "Bobby, s'il vous plaît, I want to be alone now." We were both quiet for a bit. He then added, finally showing some tenderness in his voice, "Amour, I just found out that I have a terminal illness and we've spent the last four hours in here ranting with Jeanne-Marie…crying, and agonizing, and talking about it. I am exhausted and I just want to be alone now. I need some peace and quiet."

I tried to ignore the stinging pain in my heart from his words. Even though his voice had taken on a more gentle tone, accepting the fact that he wanted no comfort from me was not easy. I willed away the next round of tears I felt threatening to leak from my eyes and lightly placed a hand on his arm. "If that's what you want, I will leave the room." I got up from the bed. "But please, Jean-Paul. Don't shut me out. I love you and I want to help you."

Jean-Paul failed to respond, continuing to stare at the floor. I miserably skulked out of the room. 

As I moped down the corridor towards the mess hall, my thoughts spun. Last time Jean-Paul shut me out like this was after the assault he'd lived through at the hands of FOH. But once we patched it up, our relationship became better than ever. But now this. Was our relationship really ever solid or would it mean that every time something went wrong he would turn around and act like this?

Then I wondered why I was speculating about our future. We didn't have much of one, depending on how long Jean-Paul could fight the disease. As he said, he didn't yet have full blown AIDS but that's what HIV leads to. He would have it someday, maybe even **soon** with the way our luck was going.

Believe it or not, AIDS never before directly impacted my life. Hard to imagine for a gay man who spent almost seven years living in the San Francisco Bay area but it's true. Oh, I went to a few different fundraisers and other events to benefit the cause, and my ex-partner Michael had a friend who was living with AIDS. I met this guy, Juan, a few times and he basically looked normal, though very thin. There were a few other guys too, casual acquaintances of mine, who also had the disease but none of them were people I knew well at all. One of them died months before I rejoined the X-men and I did attend his funeral. Memories from that afternoon flooded back to me---- the stuffy church, the dirge of the organ music, the parents appearing more embarrassed than sad. And the dead man's partner, weeping uncontrollably during the ceremony, being comforted by another friend.

I had to shake those memories off. I then thought back to the young woman named Lu who we X-men rescued from an FOH camp in Beijing. It seemed to me that she didn't last too long once she was diagnosed with AIDS. I dimly recalled the awkward funeral we held for her and I shuddered anew.

Damn those FOH bastards. There just aren't any words strong enough that I can say or write to condemn them so I won't waste the effort. 

I got to the mess hall, not wanting to show my face. When I walked in, it seemed that practically **everyone** was there. (Well, where else would they go, with most of the ship closed down?) I located the area of the floor where I'd neatly rolled up my sleeping bag that morning. I winced when I looked at it. I'd woken up that morning and it had been a normal day----well, basically as normal a day as we X-men usually had. Now my life was blown open and there was nothing to do but pick up the pieces. I was slowly absorbing the realization that my life would never be the same again.

I numbly rummaged around my duffel bag, searching for a book from An'zhina that I'd brought and having the distinct impression that nearly everyone was looking at me out of the corners of their eyes. I was vaguely aware that conversations seemed to have died down; the only sound was Rory playing with one of her toys. I located a corner of the room and sat down, slumped against a wall.

The room was eerily quiet as I tried to get into the book. I looked up once from the pages and saw Jubilee and Moonstar both quickly look down, as if they had been peeking at me. Later on, I snuck another glimpse. Everyone seemed almost frozen in their tracks. I felt my cheeks get warm. It had been a long time since I felt this uncomfortable, especially among a group that I considered my family. I didn't care much right then what the others were feeling but I got the idea that they were all fairly uncomfortable too.

I turned my eyes back to the same paragraph I'd read at least four times now. A movement from the periphery caught my attention. Before I knew it, Rogue and Gambit had gracefully and quickly made their way to my side. "Hey, Bobby," Rogue began, speaking in a near-whisper, "can ya help Gambit and me with somethin' in engineering?"

"Sure," I said, scrambling to my feet. Bless their hearts, they were going to rescue me from this awkward hell. I knew I was truly lucky to have friends like these, who could just sense my needs. 

After a silent walk down the corridors, the three of us found ourselves in engineering, where we were fortunate to be alone save for the machines and the steady hum emanating from them as they powered the ship. I leaned against a wall, Rogue and Gambit facing me. 

"We jus' wonderin' if somet'in be wrong," Gambit said. "You okay, Bobby?"

I looked at his face, I looked at Rogue's and I saw such genuine caring. They were really worried about me. Then I broke down and started crying. I told them everything. Everything, starting from the time Hank called Jean-Paul and I to sick bay, to Jean-Paul's brushing me off and wanting to be alone. Gambit miraculously produced a handkerchief which I used to blow my nose into and wipe my eyes. "I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare but it's not happening," I said.

I don't remember what they said to comfort me, but they did hug me and let me cry my eyes out. It helped. It actually did more than help; I think it helped save my sanity because sitting quietly in the mess hall as if everything were alright would've been unbearable. I don't know how long the three of us stayed in engineering but Hector stopped in at one point to run diagnostics on the engines, and we did not leave until Sam Guthrie called our communicators to say that dinner was almost ready.

************

Wolverine had been sitting on the bridge for several uneventful hours now as Freedom warped towards the planet. The sooner they got there, the better. He needed his privacy, his means to get away from the others. And his body ached for **exercise.** Having grown accustomed to intense training sessions and battles in the Danger Room, the fact that the gym was now closed felt akin to torture. Fortunately, Wolverine had brought a few weights with him which he made use of during the quiet hours of his shift.

He heard the sound of the doors swishing aside and footsteps. Storm entered the bridge, carrying a plate of food. "It's lunchtime," she said. "I thought you might be hungry."

"Thanks, Storm," he said, accepting the tray that she placed in front of him and reaching for the sandwich. 

Storm had debated herself before taking the meal to him. It had not been long since their relationship had turned a corner; they had finally admitted to each other their feelings of love. Not an easy step for two proud, stubborn people. This experience of having a "real" relationship---one beyond mere friendship, beyond mere sex----would be new and unusual for both of them, and Storm did not wish to smother Logan. The last thing she would want would be for him to feel stifled and to eventually bolt. `Not that I couldn't deal with it if it does happen someday,' she resolutely told herself. `I can handle anything. But we are both happy now. And I want that to be preserved as long as possible.'

Storm had finally decided to just bring lunch to Wolverine. Common courtesy on board Freedom had always dictated that **someone** would bring meals to whoever was on bridge duty at the time. `So why not have it be me? He's brought me meals before.' Besides, by now it was past the usual lunch time and Wolverine had to be getting hungry.

"You wanna stay and talk for a bit?" he asked, warmth evident in his voice. Wolverine knew that Storm didn't want to smother him and he did not wish to smother her, either. But he knew that having a conversation over a meal hardly constituted suffocation. Besides, given the current situation on board Freedom, who knew when they would next get a chance to be alone?

"I would like to," Storm said, seating herself in the chair next to the Captain's.

"You want some?" Logan asked, gesturing to the food on his plate. 

Storm shook her head. "I ate already; thank you." She noted the twinge of formality in her voice and knew that she didn't need it during this stage in their relationship. Yes, this new direction their relationship had taken would require some getting used to. "Has anything unusual happened in the last few hours?"

"Nope. The monitors all quiet." He paused. "Anything goin' on with the others?"

Storm drew in a breath. "There is something that I am concerned about. Something is terribly wrong with Bobby."

Wolverine nodded. Both he and Storm had witnessed Charlotte's loud expression of concern for Bobby that morning. "Anything happen since the kid got all worried over him?"

"Yes. Bobby made an appearance in the mess hall not long ago. He came in and sat by himself in a corner, looking as if his world were ending. He looked truly horrible. Rogue and Gambit ushered him out of the room and they have been gone since." She took a breath. "It has been an odd day as I haven't seen either of the twins, or Hank or Panda, since early this morning. But on my way to the bridge, I passed Jeanne-Marie and Panda in the greenhouse. Something was terribly wrong with Jeanne-Marie as well; she appeared to be in a state of….panic. I did not stare but it was quite obvious that Jeanne-Marie was horribly upset and Panda was attempting to calm her down." Storm paused. "I know that the other's personal lives are none of our business but I think it's clear that something is very wrong. I cannot help but to be concerned."

Wolverine nodded. "I am too. Maybe it's somethin' with Northstar," Wolverine said. "Looks like the two people closest to him are goin' crazy."

"You might be right."

*************

Jean-Paul Beaubier was relieved to be left alone at last. Jeanne-Marie had fled aghast, wrapped up in her own sorrow, and Bobby had heeded Jean-Paul's request for solitude. Northstar was finally alone in sick bay. Hank McCoy worked away behind closed doors, in his laboratory. "I assure you that I shall spend my every waking hour searching for a cure for this disease," the good doctor had said. 

`Bless his heart,' Northstar thought wryly. Let him knock himself out attempting to do what researchers on earth had been unable to achieve for a few decades now. `Well, perhaps I should not be so grim,' Northstar speculated. `Researchers on earth have stopped looking for a cure in favor of rounding up everyone who might have the disease.'

Northstar found himself pacing around sick bay. He was glad to be alone. He loved Jeanne-Marie and Bobby, but right now he couldn't deal with their agony. He didn't want either of them to love him as much as they did. `Especially Bobby,' he thought. `I must keep him away from me at all costs. I must be sure not to give him this disease----if I haven't already.' He then obsessively replayed each of their lovemaking sessions since his release from the FOH. `Did we do anything that could have put ma coeur at risk??' he frantically asked himself. His crisp memory replayed each time they'd been sexual together since the assaults. 

Northstar continued to pace as his mind flew at sonic speeds. Could anyone on the ship other than Bobby be at risk too? `No….I should know better. AIDS isn't spread so easy to spread.' Jean-Paul then spotted a stack of papers on one of the counters. Hank had printed up reams of paper regarding this disease, including a great deal of information regarding how AIDS is and is not transmitted. `That man has a heart of gold. No wonder Bobby loves him so much.' Northstar walked over to the stack and took the papers in hand. He then spent hours pouring over them, learning as much as he could about this terrifying disease. Most of it was not really new to him; many years ago Jean-Paul had adopted an infant with AIDS. During Joanne's brief life on earth, he had learned all he could about HIV and AIDS. Still, he combed through the pages Hank printed for him. 

After quite some time, Northstar was tired of reading, tired of thinking. He was dimly aware that his eyes and his head were starting to ache. The shock was gradually wearing off and the reality sinking in. During years and years of reading and hearing about this disease, after watching Joanne die of it, he had never thought he himself would contract it. `It is no longer just the "people with AIDS" or "AIDS victims" these articles talk about. It is I. Jean-Paul Beaubier.'

Jean-Paul placed a hand on his abdomen. His stomach grumbled. `I cannot remain in sick bay for the rest of my life. I am not under quarantine!' He had had his fill of aloneness and now sought to be with the rest. 

As he turned towards the doorway, he nearly collided with his sister. "Jeanne-Marie!" he exclaimed.

"Mon frere," she said, pulling him into a hug. "I know that you want to be alone. And I know you do not want to hear any more of me screaming and crying. So I just decided to come up here to see if I can comfort you, Jean-Paul."

Northstar raised his eyebrows. Jeanne-Marie was remarkably calm, her voice soft and steady. She did not look as if she had spent the last several hours throwing a fit. Instead, she looked composed and serene. Unbeknownst to Northstar, Jeanne-Marie had spent the last several hours in the greenhouse with Panda, and Panda had succeeded in her mission to pacify Jeanne-Marie. 

Jean-Paul hesitantly returned the hug. Jeanne-Marie pulled him close as soon as he allowed it. "Do not pull away from me, mon frere. You know it is alright for us to embrace, oui? I will not get this disease from hugging you."

"You are right, ma soeur." He allowed himself to relax into the hug though, for once, he felt a twinge of nervousness around his sister. 

"Were you getting ready to leave the sick bay?" she asked after they'd held each other for a long while.

"Yes. I've spent all day in here and I am tired of hiding. No sense in doing it. I'm not under quarantine and I cannot exile myself in here for the rest of our journey." He then broke off, remembering for the first time since his diagnosis that morning, the predicament that the X-men were in. No one knew what would befall them when they reached this planet and whether or not they would succeed in their mission to acquire more dilithium. And if they did not succeed….it was terrifying to contemplate. No one knew what would happen next. `It's alright,' he told himself. `We've all gotten out of worse scenarios before. We'll make it. 

"I agree that you should not feel like you need to hide. Not among the X-men." She paused, and then added, with a touch of passion in her voice, "They are now our family."

Northstar was slightly taken aback by Jeanne-Marie's statement. During all the time she'd lived with the X-men, she tended to withdraw from the group and had very few friends. Oftentimes the women all got together for healing ceremonies (what specifically they did during these "healing ceremonies" Jean-Paul had no idea.) Jeanne-Marie was always invited but she declined every time. Jean-Paul surmised that he was the only one his sister really confided in, though she also spent time with Bobby and Shaman----Bobby because he was Northstar's partner and Shaman perhaps out of sentimentality for their old Alpha Flight days. 

"Do you really think that?" he asked Jeanne-Marie, his eyes wide.

Jeanne-Marie shrugged. "We have no other family now. And we cannot get by without the X-men. I do not want to get attached to anyone else again but I cannot deny that the X-men are the only home we have. So I think there should be no secrets from them."

"You mean….you mean I should tell them about my diagnosis?" 

"How can you not? I think, mon frere, that with the way word travels around this ship, everyone must know by now. At the very least they must know something is wrong."

Northstar contorted his face. "I do not like sharing my personal life with those of whom it is none of their business. And this is personal."

"Ah, but I would say that it **is** their business, or it will be very soon. They are all crazy about Bobby, you know that, ---surely they can see the pain he is in and they are going to want to help him." She paused. "They care about you and I as well, I think."

Northstar nodded. He then, on impulse, reached for Jeanne-Marie again for a hug. This embrace was brief. "You and I have truly grown up, ma soeur."

Jeanne-Marie nodded, knowing his thoughts were exactly the same place as hers. "They would be truly shocked at how calmly we are handling this," she said. The "they" she referred to was their parents. Knowing that her brother's thoughts were in the same place as hers, she did not need to specify that. "We are not throwing fits or carrying on. They would be very impressed." Jeanne-Marie then forced a smile and added, "What has the world come to? Half of our old Alpha Flight teammates would be shocked as well."

Jean-Paul winced again. Seeing the look on her brother's face, Jeanne-Marie asked, "What is it?"

He shook his head. "More memories of people we loved and have lost. Our parents. Alpha Flight. More painful memories. Jeanne-Marie, I do not know if I can handle all this!"

Jeanne-Marie nodded, knowing that if Northstar were to die, she would be the one facing the harder struggle ahead. She shook that thought from her mind, reached for her brother's arm and patted it. "We must handle it," she insisted. She then realized that the arm she touched was his artificial arm. The FOH had tortured Alpha Flight when they held them captive and had, at one point, chopped an arm off Northstar. The Endarians later performed an operation on Northstar to replace the arm. He now had two arms that looked, felt, and worked alike; Northstar generally never even thought of it. 

Neither did Jeanne-Marie, but her eyes widened at a realization. "The Endarians! Mon frere, there is hope indeed! They have science and powers beyond those on earth. I think they can cure you. I am sure they could! We will find a way to get them to agree to this."

The idea had crossed Northstar's mind before. But there were a lot of "if's" involved…..if they even reached An'zhina, if they could get Queen Marina to agree. Jean-Paul knew that life came with few guarantees, and they simply could not bank on this. 

"Come," Northstar said, holding his sister's hand in his. "Let us go find Bobby. I do want to tell the others about my diagnosis but I want to discuss this with Bobby first. He is part of the family and we must involve him too."

The twins consulted a schedule and saw that Bobby was supposed to be on bridge duty at this time. However when they reached the bridge, they saw Jubilee –not Bobby---in the Captain's chair. 

"I offered to take over his shift," Jubilee answered, when asked Bobby's whereabouts. She lowered her eyes, "I, uh, got the idea that there was something really bothering him so I said I could take on another shift."

"That was very nice of you, Jubilee,' Jeanne-Marie said, sounding stiffly formal.

'She always sounds so distant,' Jubilee thought in regards to Jeanne-Marie. `She's been with the X-men for a while now but she might as well be halfway across the galaxy.' Jubilee then spoke up and asked, "Is everything alright?"

Jeanne-Marie replied "Yes" at the same time her brother replied "No." They awkwardly turned towards each other, mutually surprised at their miscue. Jean-Paul then smiled sheepishly and said, "We will tell you more later, petit'. Do you know where Bobby is?"

"Probably engineering," Jubilee answered. She then added, "And please don't call me `petit', okay? I'm like 23 years old now." It was bad enough when the X-men who had known her since she was a teenager did that. But these two hadn't known her so long….from where had they picked up the idea that she was a kid?? And Jubilee was never keen on being told, `We'll tell you later,' either.

Northstar apologized and the twins left for engineering, in search of Bobby. They reached the room and found it empty. Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie then retraced their steps towards the mess hall, to find almost everyone sitting down to dinner. 

`Ah, yes. Food. I forgot about eating today,' Jeanne-Marie thought to herself. 

As the twins entered the large room, Jeanne-Marie noticed conversation dying down and many turning their heads to observe their entrance. Jean-Paul, however, sought out only one thing with his eyes----Bobby.

**************

TO BE CONTINUED…..

Please let me know what you think….am I on the right track? So far so good? Please post reviews to fanfiction.net or send me an email at stormkpr@usa.net

And finally, as I mentioned above, a cast of characters list and a brief synopsis of my first two fics:

** __**

Cast of Characters

X-men: **Storm, Cyclops, Professor X, Jean Grey, Wolverine, Jubilee, Gambit, Rogue, Beast, Iceman, Nightcrawler, Angel, Banshee, Northstar, Shaman, Aurora Borealis, Cannonball, Moonstar, Wraith, Panda. **

All of these characters are based off of the characters on the original X-men animated series – with the exception of those characters who did not appear on the show (duh) and **Bobby**. I basically changed Bobby's personality and history from the one episode of the show he was in, making him more likeable (hopefully). I also borrowed a few characters from the comics (**Wraith/Hector Rendoza** and **Dani Moonstar**), and played with their personalities a bit too. Alpha Flight fans, please don't be too angry but I changed quite a bit of the history of the three former Alphans in this story-- **Northstar, Aurora Borealis and Shaman**. (For example, in the history given in my fic, Northstar and Aurora grew up together; in the AF comics, they did not.) 

Children: **Charlotte** (age 2 when the story opens) and her brother **Christopher** (age 9 months) – the children of Jean and Scott; and **Rory** (AKA Aurora, age 2 years, 3 months) – Jubilee's daughter. 

Others: **Mark Burroughs**, a former Friends of Humanity soldier; former X-men** Psylocke **and** Marrow**; the ruler of Endaria, **Queen Marina**; Banshee's wife **Moira MacTaggert**; and several members of Jean Grey's family (her parents **John and Elaine**, sister **Sara**, niece **Gail** and nephew **Joe**.)

**__**

Synopsis of "X-men: Friends of Humanity" _and_ "Freedom"

Summarizing these two stories is no easy task, considering that together they take up 840 pages in Word, so I will provide only highlights of the major points:

1. Bobby Drake returns to the X-men after a long absence. He narrates part of the story, trading off with a third-person omniscient narrator. 

2. Friends of Humanity (FOH) has basically taken over earth—they've won the media, public opinion and governments of most nations on the planet.

3. FOH captures and tortures the X-men, transporting them into space. The X-men free themselves and take over the starship, which they rename Freedom.

4. After quite a bit of time in space, the X-men encounter a friendly and highly advanced race known as the Endarians. Their leader, Queen Marina, gives the X-men a moon to live on and use as their base. The moon is named An'zhina.

5. The X-men travel to and from earth in an attempt to rescue mutants from concentration camps run by FOH. 

6. When "The Heavens Open" begins, the X-men are returning from a mission to earth where Jean used her powers to convince FOH not to unleash a virus designed to kill all mutants. 

The interactions of the characters are the heart and soul of this series. Again, a _very_ brief run-down of some of the personal matters that occurred within the past few years:

1. As you can tell from the cast of characters list, Jean and Scott now have two children.

2. Storm and Wolverine are now attempting a go at a "real" relationship. Over the years, they've gone from being just friends, to two friends who sleep together, to completely ending their sexual relationship (and nearly ending their friendship), and now to admitting their love for each other.

3. Jubilee gave birth to a daughter, sired by one of the FOH soldiers who tortured her. She has grown up quite a bit during the past few years and is now 23 years old. 

4. Professor X has had to deal with the fact that his dream of seeing mutants and humans live in peace together is dying, and to deal with compromising his standards (i.e. allowing mind control to be used to prevent a greater evil on earth.)

5. Rogue and Gambit are married, both having long overcome their fear of getting close. Through intense sessions with Xavier, examining her past, Rogue has now learned how to control her powers and is able to touch people at will without absorbing their memories or harming them.

6. Bobby has spent most of his life trying to accept himself and deal with the fact that he is gay. He's finally reached a level of self-confidence and he's found love with former Alpha Flight member Northstar. This older Northstar is not quite as brash and arrogant as he was during his AF days.

7. Hank McCoy is another X-man who has found love and gotten married, to a younger woman named Jessica Martin. Everyone refers to Jessica as "Panda", because of her mutation. 

8. The X-men have a few new members---Cannonball (Sam Guthrie), the creative and outspoken Dani Moonstar, and the young Hector Rendoza (Wraith) who's mutation involves see-through skin. However, most of the mutants that the X-men rescued from the clutches of FOH live on An'zhina and have elected not to lead the life of an X-man.

9. Psylocke and Marrow left the X-men to form a group called the Pirates. The Pirates sail through space in a vessel stolen from FOH and their only goal is to capture and torture FOH soldiers.


	2. Chapter 2

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

CHAPTER TWO

**************

Gambit looked up from his dinner when he heard the doors to the mess hall open. He adeptly returned his gaze to the soup he was eating after noting that Northstar and Jeanne-Marie had entered. He and Rogue exchanged a look after the twins asked Bobby to step out of the room with them. 

The conversation then resumed as before, Storm filling in the group with information she'd learned about the planet that Freedom was approaching. 

"The sensors indicate somewhere between two and three million humanoid life forms," she said, "and several billion animal life forms."

"That's much less than the seven billion humans on earth," Nightcrawler said. "What do we know of the size of the planet?"

"It's actually not much smaller than earth, but much of it is apparently uninhabitable." 

"The sensors pick up some pretty large magnetic disturbances in those uninhabitable areas," Cyclops added. "Seems like there are some extreme conditions."

"Can we breathe the air on the planet?" Hector asked.

"Yes, we should be able to easily," Storm said. "The sensors indicate it's far less polluted that the air on earth."

"I suspect the air might be like the air on the Paradise Planet," Jean speculated. "That air was so clean it was almost **delicious** to breathe it. Of course An'zhina's the same way," she added quickly. Jean realized that she was almost taking the clean air for granted. 'If we ever do settle back on earth, it will be difficult to get used to again,' she thought to herself.

"Do we know anything about the level of technology the people on this planet have?" Dani Moonstar asked.

"They definitely have no warp drive, and no starships," Cyclops said. "From this vantage point, it's hard to get more specific than that. If we wanted more detailed and advanced scans, it would require a lot more dilithium than we have now, unfortunately."

"We just really don't know what we'll encounter when we get there," Jean concluded. Charlotte sat at a high chair next to Jean, and Jean spooned some more food into her daughter's mouth. Gambit smiled in the direction of both Charlotte and the other toddler, Aurora. Both girls were now fixated on their stuffed animal friends. Charlotte's pet was a bright green frog named Froggy and Rory loved her gray elephant named "Ellie." Both girls brought their pets, which had been replicated on An'zhina, with them everywhere. Froggy was sitting at the table next to Charlotte's high chair. Charlotte would insist, with words and gestures, that her mother "feed" Froggy too.

"Whatever it's like, I know we can face it," Cyclops added.

Gambit listened half-heartedly to the group's exchange, noting that with his last comment, Scott sounded a bit like a high school sports coach. But for the most part, Remy had tuned the "planet" discussion out. Not that he wasn't interested in this planet. He knew that the X-men's future largely depended on what they would encounter and experience there. But his thoughts were still with his friend Bobby. He would've loved to have been a fly on the wall during the conversation that Bobby, Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie were apparently now having. He looked at his wife and could tell from her expression that Rogue's thoughts were at the same place as his. 

To save resources, the group no longer replicated desserts. When the meal was finished, fruit was available for anyone who wanted it. Gambit selected a few slices of kiwi and pineapple---the more bland fruits such as bananas and apples did nothing for his taste buds. The tangy kiwi danced against the roof of his mouth and by the time he had finished the last bite of it, the doors to the large room again glided aside and Northstar, Bobby, and Jeanne-Marie re-entered, along with Hank this time.

Gambit surveyed their faces. He could generally read Bobby like an open book and upon looking at his friend immediately understood that the decision had been made to "come clean" about Northstar's HIV status and tell the rest of the group. Gambit ruminated on it for a bit and decided it likely was a good decision. Though he and Rogue had not told a soul, **everyone** knew something was amiss and he knew that others had to have educated guesses as to the cause of the unrest. Northstar preferred to keep most things private, but that simply wasn't much of an option, given how they lived. `Besides, what's dere to hide? He got nothin' to be 'shamed of,' Remy thought. `'Course not everyone gonna t'ink dat way, unfortunately….'

The four---Northstar, Bobby, Jeanne-Marie, and Hank -- seated themselves at the table with everyone else. The room was silent as the four exchanged nervous looks with each other. Gambit felt time slowing down during the awkward lull. Then he sensed Jean-Paul's impatience; the speedster was tired of delaying the inevitable. He spoke. "Excuse me, everyone," he said, sounding oddly formal. "I have something that I must tell you all."

Gambit quickly glanced at the others around the table. The room was so silent now one could have heard a pin drop; even the three children were now quiet. Gambit then looked again at Bobby and felt pity for his friend. Bobby was **so** nervous right now. Gambit also saw a tiny bead of sweat on the Iceman's face. `Is okay,' Gambit thought towards Bobby, trying to send some energy his way. `You got nothin' to be 'fraid of now, Bobby. Be strong.'

"What is it, Northstar?" Storm asked. "Is something wrong?" As always, Storm conveyed warmth and caring in her voice. Gambit wondered how she always managed to exude tranquility as well.

Northstar looked down and then looked back up at the faces around the table. "We have just found out that I have tested positive for HIV." He stated it calmly and matter-of-factly. Gambit was unsurprised to see the agonized look on Bobby's face. 

Though no one was surprised at this point, there were several gasps and other shocked sounds heard in the mess hall. Shaman winced as if in pain, and then got up to try to embrace both Northstar and Aurora. Gambit noted that neither of the twins seemed receptive to the condolences of their old Alpha Flight teammate.

"There is something else I want to say," Northstar began again, Gambit noting that he now sounded more like the Northstar that he knew. His voice was more than a little abrasive. "I suppose you are all wondering how I got this disease and thinking that I did something wrong. But I want you to know that I got this disease from the Friends of Humanity." Gambit observed that Northstar was looking in the direction of Cyclops as well as towards Mark, who sat on Scott's left side. "When we were last held prisoner there, they took me out of the room and they assaulted me. I want you to know that I got this virus through no fault of my own!" Northstar spoke the words with barely-restrained anger, his voice full of umbrage. 

Stunned silence reigned in the mess hall. Finally, Storm spoke. "Jean-Paul, I certainly cannot speak for the group, but I care not how you contracted the disease. I do share your outrage over what FOH has done to you---- to all of us. Please let me know what I can do now to help you and support you through this. And I offer my support to Bobby and Jeanne-Marie as well."

Gambit's heart warmed. His "Stormy" was so amazing and he was always so proud to have her as a best friend. Briefly Gambit remembered a conversation he'd had a few weeks ago with Mark. The former FOH member had asked whether Gambit and Storm had ever been more than friends, since they seemed so close. No, they never had been---despite being such close friends, the chemistry to go beyond that simply had never existed. But Remy admired the Wind Rider greatly, and he knew the feeling was mutual.

Once the words were out of Storm's mouth, her sentiment was echoed by virtually everyone at the table. "I will do whatever I can to help…." "I will pray for you…." "What can I do to support you?" "I'm here for you…" etc, etc. 

Charlotte frantically indicated she wanted to be taken down from her high chair. As soon as Scott set his daughter down, she toddled up to Northstar and embraced him. Northstar visibly hesitated, and then returned the hug. Gambit could tell that that gesture moved most of the hearts in the room.

"I can think of one thing you can do to that would help me a lot," Northstar said. The room quieted down again as he spoke. Gambit noticed that Bobby again had tears in his eyes. "Hank has offered to talk to the group about HIV and about AIDS. I hope you will listen to him."

Hank nodded. "I thought that it might be beneficial if I share with all of you information about this virus---specifically, how it is spread and how it is not spread, life expectancy information, an overview of the latest treatments. I know that many of you are familiar with this already, but I believe that a refresher lesson would be helpful." 

"I think that would be a great idea," Cyclops said. Gambit looked at the X-men's co-leader and recognized that he was doing a decent job of hiding his discomfort. It was well known that homosexuality–-or anything pertaining to it--- was not Cyclops's favorite topic, and AIDS was still largely seen as a gay disease. But Cyclops seemed to be putting up an effort to mask his uneasiness. 'Course 'dose shades always help,' Gambit thought wryly.

"I am prepared to speak about these subjects right now," Hank said, papers in his large hands. Several moved their chairs so as to sit closer to the doctor. "When we are finished, I shall return to the infirmary," Hank continued, above the sounds of chairs being moved across the floor and people rearranging themselves. "I intend to dedicate myself to finding a cure for AIDS." Hank spoke in a concise, business-like manner; it was evident to Gambit that Hank wanted to return to his research quickly. `Course he does. He loves Bobby….If Hank has it his way, he gonna be in dat lab 16 hours a day, every day till he finds dat cure. He gonna work his fingers to the bone, gonna work till he can't see straight no more, to find dat cure.'

"Moira MacTaggert worked extensively on trying to find a cure, too," Panda added. "Once we're back on An'zhina, she can start up again."

"Our hope is that between Moira's and my research, we shall find a cure," Hank added. 

For the first time, Northstar made an attempt to smile. "Do not start replicating a casket for me yet, mon ami. You know, there are some who live with this disease for years and years."

Both Jeanne-Marie and Bobby had anguished looks on their faces, and no one seemed to know how to take Jean-Paul's comment. 

Hank then spoke and added, "Jean-Paul is correct. The last year that reliable statistics from earth were available, the data indicated that the average life span from the time of diagnosis to death was 9.3 years." Gambit noted that this statistic did little to cheer Bobby or Jeanne-Marie. Northstar's face was stoic again. Gambit also realized that Northstar had to have a strong advantage in that his infection was diagnosed early. Hank then asked, "Are we then ready to begin the discussion and information sharing around HIV and AIDS?"

Jean looked around the room. "What about Jubilee? She's on bridge duty right now. I'm sure she wouldn't want to miss this."

Arrangements were quickly made to patch Jubilee in through the intercom. It wasn't the ideal situation but it would have to do. With the X-men being so proximate to the planet now, the bridge could not be abandoned.

Hank then began speaking---the scenario seeming oddly like they were a high school class being given a sex-education lecture in the gym. Gambit reminded himself to listen and keep an open mind, though he knew it was unlikely that he would hear much he had not heard before. 

Hank talked about HIV not being contracted through "casual contact." He said, "It is not possible to contract the virus through such things as hugging or touching, or from activities such as sharing a toothbrush, using the same toilet seat, or using the same eating utensils." He spoke of the kinds of activities that **did** open the possibility of AIDS transmission: exchange of blood or other bodily fluids, sharing needles, engaging in unprotected sex. There were few questions asked during the talk as everyone listened grimly to the doctor. Some palpable discomfort ran through the room, Gambit noted, but most were too shocked and saddened to let their embarrassment with the subject matter get the best of them.

Gambit was also impressed with the fact that for the most part, Hank avoided heavy medical jargon. He did at one point lapse into a discussion of the five different phases of HIV infection: completely asymptomatic, superficially asymptomatic, mildly symptomatic, seriously symptomatic, and full-blown AIDS. (Northstar was in the completely asymptomatic phase, Hank said.) Fortunately Beast did not mire his discussion down with a great deal of detail about these phases. Hank's tone throughout the presentation was business-like and straightforward.

When Hank was finished with his presentation, he handed out papers to everyone with the key points. Gambit saw Nightcrawler spend a few moments reading the hand-out, Sam Guthrie nervously playing with his copy, and Cyclops taking his hand-out, carefully folding it, and placing it in a pocket. Hank then thanked the group and immediately returned to the lab. 

The rest of the X-men then slowly disbursed, moving their chairs back around the table, cleaning up after messy children, and moving the dishes and utensils to the washer. Conversation was minimal; most who spoke decided to do so in hushed tones. 

Gambit then looked at Rogue and, wordlessly, the two approached Bobby. Bobby gave a weak smile in their direction. 

"You wanna talk some more, hon?" Rogue asked. Gambit's heart nearly broke at the tenderness in her voice. Some said that Rogue's voice was rough and abrasive. Obviously they had never heard her address one she loved; to Remy, her voice was as sweet and delicious as banana bread pudding with rum. His heart twinged at hearing Rogue address Bobby in a tone she usually only reserved for Remy.

"Thanks, guys," Bobby muttered, "but I'm all talked-out today. And I wanna be with Jean-Paul." 

**************

My parents never gave me much good advice or talked with me about stuff like relationships, but I do remember one smart thing my mother told me. She said, "Relationships are all about compromise." Jean-Paul and I had reached a compromise on an issue a while ago. The problem was that he often liked to sleep in his own bed whereas I, on the other hand, loved to cuddle and longed for nothing else other than to fall asleep wrapped in his arms. So the two of us needed to come up with a compromise, and we did. On those nights when he felt he wanted to sleep by himself, he and I would spend a few minutes before bedtime just holding each other, sitting together, arms wrapped around each other. It satisfied my need for affection, and when we were done cuddling, he could go back to his own bed and experience whatever it was he liked about sleeping alone.

A lot of the affection stuff wasn't really easy for Jean-Paul. He and I had finally talked about it once, though not till after his sister had given me a bit of his background and told me about his past. He'd been an loner for most of his life---everyone in Alpha Flight complained about how arrogant he was too---, until he went through a few life experiences that changed him. One of those experience was his first ever serious relationship, a relationship with a man named Philippe. Philippe is dead now; he was killed by FOH soldiers 

Being open and giving didn't come naturally to Jean-Paul; I knew how excruciating this was---having to tell everyone that he was HIV positive, listening to Hank calmly explain how HIV is transmitted, seeing the shock on everyone's faces. But as much as he liked to keep to himself, Jean-Paul also had a pretty well-developed desire to do the right thing, and he knew that "coming out", so to speak, about his HIV status was the right thing.

But enough of my rambling. That evening, we were all getting ready for bed---sleeping bags were being unrolled, those who preferred cots were dressing them with blankets. Jean, Scott, and Jubilee were bundling up the three children in several layers of clothing. (Since the cold didn't impact me too much, I kinda forgot how chilly the ship was now that we turned down the temperature to save dilithium.) Before we turned in for the night, Jean-Paul and I wound up cuddling.

"Thank you for not pushing me away," I whispered. With the lights down in the large mess hall, it seemed to me that you could hear the rustlings of others even more acutely. I heard Rory prattling to her stuffed animals, Wraith snoring already, someone getting up and walking across the room.

"Thank you for being here for me," Jean-Paul said. His voice didn't carry much affection though; he sounded stiffly formal. But still, I could not complain. He held me against him tenderly.

I had nothing more to say. I'd already uttered a thousand platitudes that day ("We'll get through this," "You're still strong and healthy," "People live a long time with this disease," "It will be okay") and I knew he'd heard a thousand other cliches from the rest of the X-men. So we silently held each other for several minutes until he lightly patted my back, a signal that it was time to separate. 

I slid underneath the covers of my sleeping bag, next to Jean-Paul's bag but separated by a few feet, and waiting for slumber to overtake me. I knew it wouldn't happen anytime soon and might not happen at all that night. I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. My stomach grumbled.

At some point during the night, I heard Cyclops return from his bridge duty shift and tap Nightcrawler awake for his turn at the helm. I remembered that I would have to thank Jubilee. She took my bridge duty shift for me before Cyke's turn, and she still had her own term in the morning, after Kurt. She wouldn't ask me to swap with her but I'd have to volunteer to take it for her. Might do me some good actually.

It was hard to believe that just about 24 hours ago, Jean-Paul and I had relieved our insomnia by heading for the bathroom and making love inside there. I knew that wouldn't happen that night, and indeed might never happen again. The more I thought of it, the more I knew that Jean-Paul would refuse to make love to me while he carried this deadly disease, no matter what precautions we took. That frantic and sloppy bout in the bathroom last night might truly have been our last. I tried to muffle my tears into my pillow.

**************

"A ship is approaching An'zhina. But it's not the X-men." 

Charles Xavier sat with Moira MacTaggert and Sean Cassidy (Banshee), sipping chamomile tea one evening. The three older adults sat together in one of the smaller common areas inside the main complex of An'zhina. An'zhina was the name of the moon that the race known as the Endarians had given to the X-men, and it now served as a haven for the couple hundred mutants that the X-men had rescued from the FOH "Mutant Containment Centers." 

"Is it anything ta worry about, Charles?" Moira asked, sitting forward in her seat.

"No," Charles said, shaking his head. "I sense only a handful of minds. They are confused, a little frightened, and a little….numb. But they are not a threat to us." 

The decision to take this break on An'zhina had done the Professor a world of good. He normally accompanied the X-men on every trip to and from earth but had realized that he needed a rest. His bones were far less weary now and his mind back to being sharp as ever. "I won't probe beyond that," he continued. "We can find out what they want when they arrive." Charles had a suspicion, from the brief contact he'd made with their minds, that these were mutant survivors of an FOH camp. He had seen and experienced that numbed pain before, all too many times. 

"Maybe they will have some news about the X-men," Banshee said. "They canna be much longer." 

'Unless,' Charles thought, 'the X-men had run into unexpected troubles.' Xavier chased the thought from his mind; he'd mulled over it a thousand times and discussed it a thousand more with John and Elaine Grey. The X-men could handle whatever the universe threw at them. They would survive and return to An'zhina. However the group was already, at this point, several weeks overdue.

"Do you think, Charles, that you should take Angel up on his offer?" Banshee asked. He then reached for his pastry, filled with orangy and sugary gooiness, and took a bite. He had developed a habit of enjoying a rich dessert in the evening, despite Moira's occasional gentle nagging about it not being healthy. The sugary sweets did not prevent him from falling asleep, though Sean did note his waistline had expanded. 

"I still am unconvinced that Angel's plan would be useful. It would be –--pardon the over-used analogy---like searching for a needle in a haystack," Charles responded. 

Warren Worthington was the only X-man, aside from the older generation consisting of Xavier and Banshee, who had elected to remain on An'zhina. Warren's main reason for staying behind had to do with the relationship that he and Sara Grey (Jean's sister) had started up. Smarting from his painful break-up with Psylocke, Warren had eagerly sought out another woman to begin a serious relationship with, even courting Jubilee for a time. He had finally found a good match in Sara and he decided to sit out this latest mission of the X-men's, in order to spend more time with his new paramour. Sara herself was not about to leave the haven An'zhina for the cold vastness of space, not when her children and parents were safe and cozy on An'zhina. 

However, when the return of the X-men was looking more and more overdue, Angel had volunteered to board a shuttle and head out into space, trying to find the X-men. But Charles had to rule out the plan as well-intentioned but futile. Space was far too vast; the likelihood of Angel finding the X-men was almost nil.

"Our best bet is to wait," Xavier continued. "The X-men will pull through. They always do."

Banshee smiled and nodded in Xavier's reaction, wishing he shared the Professor's confidence. 

**************

We reached the planet the next day. We always referred to it as "the planet" as we had no idea what the inhabitants of this world called it. All we knew was that millions of humanoids lived there and "the planet" contained supplies of the precious dilithium.

The planet was the talk of the starship-----well, that and the recent diagnosis of Jean-Paul, of course, which was generally discussed in hushed whispers that abruptly stopped when I entered the room. (People must think that either I'm deaf or just really slow on the uptake.) But for the most part, the ship buzzed with questions about the planet. Would the "humanoids" on the surface look like us?, how would we get the dilithium?, what would we find when we beamed down? 

As we approached the planet and moved Freedom into synchronous orbit with it, I did start getting more and more interested in what we'd find. Since the previous night, I'd been holding onto one nugget of hope. Endaria. The medicine of the Endarians had to be able to cure Jean-Paul. They could do practically anything else from what we knew of them; they had to either have a cure or have the resources to develop one. I didn't know what it would take to get Queen Marina to agree to helping us, but I knew there **had** to be a way and that we'd find it. That image of hope kept me going and even gave me a new burst of energy.

And getting back to Endaria depended on acquiring some dilithium from the planet. My interest in this place started to grow.

As Freedom edged closer and closer to beaming-down range, we talked over our options. As usual, we X-men engaged in a lively debate and discussion. The correct and moral thing to do would be to speak with someone on the planet who had some authority and ask them if we could take some dilithium. _Or would it? _The other side of the coin had to do with the argument that the Professor so strongly believed in….not interfering in the natural evolution of another planet, another group of humanoids. Charging in there and trying to communicate with the leaders of the planet (whoever they were) could send the populace into a panic. As someone argued during the endless deliberations, imagine if aliens from another planet had beamed down to earth a few hundred years ago and tried to talk with us, bargain for some of our natural resources—think of the alarm it would have caused had word spread. Did we have the right to mess with the natural history of the people on this planet like that? As Cyclops pointed out many times, he was sure that Professor X would say no. 

Another problem had to do with the fact that it appeared as if there **wasn't** one body, one entity in charge of the entire planet. Imagine earth before the United Nations. (And even **after** the United Nations was formed, you could argue, since the UN didn't really have that much power.) You couldn't say that there was **one** governing body responsible for the whole planet.

So what were our options? More and more X-men started to advocate the following plan: beam down a small group at night, take just enough dilithium to get us back to Endarian space, and beam back up again. It was sneaky and immoral in a way, to simply take what wasn't ours, but the argument was made that trying to communicate with the inhabitants and potentially messing up their natural development was the worse of two evils. No matter how we did this, it wasn't going to be easy or smooth and either way involved interfering with the natural development of the inhabitants of the planet. 

Needless to say, the group debated back and forth for a long time. I listened half-heartedly, knowing how it would turn out as always. We'd had these discussions before but it didn't change the fact that we needed to get back to An'zhina.

We decided on sending a group down to the surface of the planet and taking a supply of their dilithium. The group would take a shuttle down to the planet because it would require less dilithium than using the transporter to beam them down. Unfortunately, the distance down to the planet's surface was too far for Nightcrawler to teleport it. 

Once that was decided, we then scanned the planet for an area with the following criteria: a sizable supply of dilithium and the least densely populated. Next we waited until it would be nighttime on the planet. While waiting, we discussed who would go on the "away" team.

"We don't know what kind of trouble we might run into," Cyclops said. "We need a team that is able to move fast and be on their toes."

I smirked to myself----sheesh, Cyke, what did you think we've all been doing in the Danger Room all this time, fighting against an endless supply of enemies? We're all capable of moving quickly and standing up to whatever we encounter. During the past several years, we'd done a ton of training and very little hand-to-hand fighting except for a few battles during the liberating of FOH camps. You couldn't find a group much more ready and skilled than we were. And I bet there were those who wouldn't have **minded** a little battle.

The away team chosen was a combination of volunteers and those whom Storm or Cyke suggested. These were the names selected: Storm, Gambit, Wolverine, Rogue and Nightcrawler. It seemed like a perfect team for a stealth mission, but the more I thought of it, the more I felt that someone was missing.

"I would like to go as well," I said to the group. My remark was met with looks of surprise. I think it was the first time I spoke during the entire meeting.

"I think five people should be more than adequate for this mission," Cyclops said, a little too soon after the words were out of my mouth.

"I do not think that an additional team member would hurt the mission," Storm said, more slowly and obviously considering my offer to assist. "And I think that Iceman certainly has a lot to contribute." She looked at me and added, "You've been training quite well lately, before we had to shut the Danger Room down."

"An' it may be good if we got six X-men on the mission," Gambit said. "Two can stand guard while four load up the shuttle."

I wanted to hug Remy for backing me up like this. Somehow, somehow he **sensed** that I really wanted to be on this mission.

"Alright," Cyclops said. "Six X-men it is. We'll be in beaming range within 90 minutes." I heard the purpose and direction in his voice. I knew he liked it when things were decided and a plan of action was in the works. 

"And we **have** to succeed on this mission," Storm said, intensely. She held my eyes, and Gambit's, Rogue's, Nightcrawler's and Wolverine's, for several seconds each. "Dispatching the six of us in a shuttle uses more dilithium than we can spare. If we do not succeed in bringing more dilithium on board Freedom, our only choice will be to turn off our cloaking device and drift towards Endaria."

"We're gonna do it," Wolverine said, his voice echoing the vehemence of Storm's. 

****************

"I can't stop thinking about her. I want her."

"For god's sake, Marrow, can you forget about her?" Psylocke muttered her typical response to Marrow. Ever since Marrow had met Dani Moonstar, she kept talking about the X-man. Psylocke was perplexed; from Marrow's account of the time the two women had spent alone, it did not exactly sound as if there had been much chemistry between the them.

"I wanna see her again. I wanna spend more time with her," Marrow proclaimed.

"Marrow, she told you she wasn't interested. Get over it." Psylocke turned her head away and rolled her eyes.

Marrow took a sharp intake of breath. Dani Moonstar was not exactly supermodel-gorgeous, but it wasn't her looks that had caught the attention of the former X-man. Not being the most introspective person, Marrow truly couldn't say exactly **why** she fixated on Dani. All she knew was that she wanted to see Moonstar again. Tedious days spent in space left her with ample time to think, to crave.

Marrow was quiet for several minutes as the two women sat on the bridge of the ship they had "reclaimed" from the Friends of Humanity. Renamed Vengeance, the ship took Psylocke, Marrow, and two women they'd rescued from FOH across the galaxy. Now calling themselves The Pirates, this group of four women had one goal: to ensnare and board FOH vessels, take whatever they wanted from the ship, and slowly torture (and eventually kill) the crew. 

"Let's head back for An'zhina," Marrow said, after several moments of silence had passed.

"What??" Psylocke asked. "Head for the X-men's base??"

"Hey, last time we were there, there were three Fuckers on Heroin ships patrolling there. It's been **weeks** since we've been able to detect any FOH ships. So let's go where we **know** there are some FOH ships. I'm tired of just wandering through space, hoping we find some FOH scum."

Marrow did have a point, Psylocke would have to admit. A strong telepath, Psylocke used her powers to sniff out any FOH vessels ripe for plunder. However space was enormously vast, with warp drive allowing starships to traverse the galaxy rapidly, and the Pirates were in the middle of a long stretch of no activity. But, as Marrow said, finding FOH ships near Endaria was a fairly sure bet. 

"I get the idea you got another motive for wanting a trip towards An'zhina," Psylocke said. "You're hoping Dani's there." Psylocke tried to refrain from again rolling her eyes. `I should never have told her that the X-men had a lesbian on board their ship,' she thought, regretting the mental probing of Freedom's crew she had performed a while ago.

Marrow shrugged. "Yeah. It's true. So? I bet you wouldn't mind seeing **Wolverine** again." Then Marrow grinned. Betsy had not held back in describing how much she'd enjoyed her last encounter with Wolverine. 

Marrow did indeed hope that the X-men would have returned to An'zhina by now. During their last encounter with them, the Pirates had generously given the X-men enough dilithium for them to head back to that area of space….for a small price. 

"True," Psylocke nodded, to Marrow's comment about Wolverine. Maybe, she thought, it wouldn't be such a bad idea. `Who knows, maybe this Moonstar chick will change her mind and go for Marrow,' Betsy hoped. Marrow's sex drive had re-blossomed (after a long period of dormancy), and it had not been pleasant for the rest of the crew of the Vengeance. Betsy was tired of detecting Marrow's eyes on her bosom, and she knew Marrow had made unwelcome overtures to the two other women on board as well. If Moonstar was back on An'zhina now and if Marrow could successfully woo her, the rest of the Pirates would certainly appreciate it. 

And Psylocke **did** look forward to the possibility of seeing Wolverine again. The man was magnificent in bed, far better than Warren or really than any of her others had been. Although sex was something Betsy had decided she could live with out, she heartily enjoyed it on occasion.

Marrow looked at Betsy, knowing that her associate was considering the idea. "But mostly I'm looking forward to payback time for those FOH bastards. And now we got that agreement with the X-men," Marrow said. "They agreed not to interfere with us ever again. So even if they sense us playing with the FOH boys outside of Endaria, they can't stop us." 

Psylocke nodded. "Okay. I'm game. Let's head back for Endaria."

Punching a few buttons, Psylocke changed their course. As the Pirates were not a democracy, the other two crew members were not consulted about this decision; they would simply be told later.

Marrow smiled. She couldn't wait to see Dani Moonstar again!

*********************

Hank hadn't taken part in any of the discussions regarding getting the dilithium from the planet. He hadn't even left the lab. My heart suddenly skipped a beat at the realization of what he was doing. He was slaving away in that lab, looking for a cure for AIDS, for Jean-Paul, for **me**. God I managed to take Hank for granted, always had.

"What time did you go to bed last night? And how early were you in here this morning?" I asked him as I entered the lab to say goodbye before the mission. He didn't look sleep deprived or anything like that, but….I knew he had to have been in the lab for a long time.

Hank smiled. "Do not worry about me, Bobby. You are aware of my attitude towards my work." He then went on to quote, "`The mind is its own place and in itself\ Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.'" He paused and added, "John Milton, Paradise Lost."

I didn't know quite how to react to that or what he was getting at, so I said flatly, "You would've made a great English teacher."

"Truly, Bobby, do not worry about me. My mindset is positive, as Milton would have appreciated, due to the fact that I am spending my time exactly as I want to --- trying to develop a cure for this disease."

"Thank you," I said quietly. I didn't know what else to say, so I quickly changed the topic and gave him a run down of the conversation and debate that had just taken place among the other X-men. Somewhere during my synopsis, Panda entered the lab and exchanged an embrace with Hank.

"So that's the scoop. I'm gonna shuttle down with the others as soon as we get close enough to the planet," I concluded. 

"I wish you the best of luck on your mission, my friend. I know that you and the others will succeed," Hank said.

"God I hope so," I said. 

Panda also wished me luck, but I could tell from her tone and the look on her face that she wanted me out of the room, so I left. 

*************

Cyclops wished that he could be doing more. `Just let it go, Scott,' he told himself, echoing a phrase Jean had said to him more than once. He left the bridge as he knew he wasn't really needed there anymore. The very capable Shaman was now on bridge duty, and there was nothing that Cyclops could do to make Freedom move faster or nightfall on the planet come sooner. Those X-men who were going on the mission were preparing themselves and were all perfectly capable of doing so without any help from Scott. (Indeed, any offer of "assistance" would likely not have been received well.) Still, Scott wanted to be **doing** something more, as team co-leader.

He couldn't quite explain it, but he was very glad that he would not be going on this mission. He'd never shied away from leading dangerous missions before and was a bit perturbed at this change in his own attitude. `I'm a father now,' he thought. `That explains a lot.'

Starting to accept that he had to back off and let the others prepare on their own, Scott then made his way towards the mess hall to help Jean with keeping an eye on the kids. That was one thing he loved about parenting. Even when long, repetitive days on a starship left him with a shorter task list than he liked, the children came to the rescue. There was always **something** he could or should be doing with them, whether it be changing diapers, reading stories, or supervising playtime. Scott loved being a dad because he never again had to worry about being idle.

He smiled when he spotted his daughter. Charlotte, as well as little Aurora, was playing with the easel. The parents had placed an oversized easel in the dining room so that Charlotte and Rory could paint or draw on it whenever they pleased. Scott and Jean had borrowed many parenting books from the Endarians, and they all suggested giving the kids many creative outlets, at as young an age as possible. Scott took a seat on the floor next to Jean, and both parents watched the two young girls blissfully scrawl whatever images they wanted on the paper. Their son Christopher was napping nearby, easily sleeping through the din.

Out of the corner of his visor, Cyclops spotted the twins from Alpha Flight sitting at one of the tables and speaking to each other in French. He later noticed Bobby enter the mess hall and sit near the twins. 

After some more time had passed, Charlotte and Rory began to tire and were put down for another nap. All the books stressed the importance of letting their young brains sleep so that they would have ample time to develop. Soon after the girls were slumbering, Scott got up to head for the washroom.

A communal bathroom took some getting used to; it had been many years since he'd lived somewhere with no other options. The orphanage in which Scott spent most of his childhood had uniform rows and rows of toilet stalls and shower stalls. Painful memories accompanied them; Scott remembered more than once being teased and threatened in the bathrooms. The boys room was one of the only places that the bullies could get away with making fun of the pariah of the group (Scott) as they didn't need to worry about interference from the kindly woman who ran the orphanage. Scott recalled holding it in as long as possible to avoid the dreaded trip to the bathroom. He remembered skulking down the hallway towards the feared room, apprehension eating away at his heart, as he soundlessly opened the door hoping and praying that the others weren't waiting inside to grab him.

Scott tried to chase those memories from his head. `They don't do me any good,' he told himself. Besides, it was all now so far behind him, a lifetime ago. He had a loving wife, two wonderful children, and a leadership position in the X-men. Despite being exiled from earth, he really wouldn't exchange the happiness he and Jean had found for anything. 

When Scott reached the bathroom, he saw Northstar inside, washing his hands at one of the sinks. The sound of a toilet flushing could be heard. Although only taking a fleeting glimpse at the Canadian, Scott noted the deliberateness and thoroughness with which Jean-Paul washed his hands. He wasn't simply holding them under water for three seconds and then drying them; he was really **washing** them, as a doctor might before surgery. Scott silently approved; he always washed his own hands with such precision as well. 

But within the next split second, Cyclops panicked. He knew that he didn't want to use whichever toilet stall Northstar had just been in. The problem was, he had no idea which stall the flushing noise was coming from.

'Take it easy,' he told himself. `Hank just said you can't get it from a toilet seat. Besides, I knew that before anyway.' But Scott balked. `There's still gotta be a lot about this disease that no one knows. What if Hank's wrong? What if I get this…..spread it to Jean or the kids??' It was too terrible a line of thought to pursue.

During the milliseconds that Scott silently debated himself, Northstar dried his hands and then promptly exited the bathroom. Scott then swiftly investigated each stall, hoping no one would enter the bathroom, until he was satisfied he found the stall that had just been used. He made sure to use a different one. Although angry at himself for his irrationality, he justified it by his concern for Jean and the kids.

***************

I was drawn to the greenhouse for some reason; I had a strange urge to check in on all the plants there before the mission. Jubilee and her daughter both entered the room and hugged me. "I'm sure the mission will go well," Jubilee said. "Knock 'em dead."

"Thanks, sweetie," I said, enthusiastically returning the hug. "I'm sure it'll go just fine. And hey, thanks again for taking over my bridge shift yesterday."

"No big deal."

I then picked up Rory and held her in my arms, amazed to realize much that little tyke had been growing. Although a few months older than Charlotte, she was smaller that Jean and Scott's girl. Still, Aurora looked round and healthy now, especially considering what a tiny infant she'd been. 

Jubilee and I stood around in the greenhouse, talking for bit but mostly playing with Rory. The door to the room slid aside after a while and Jean-Paul entered. Jubilee and Rory soon excused themselves.

Jean-Paul and I didn't talk for long. "I wish you the best of luck, amour. I know it will go well," he said. 

"Thank you," I said. "I'm sure it will."

He reached to pull me into a hug, surprising me. We didn't talk much more but I remember being very glad to get this scrap of affection from him before the journey.

**************

And then it was time to shuttle down to the planet. I wished we had a better name for this place, but "the planet" was what we continued to call it. Nightcrawler teleported each of us---Storm, Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit and myself----directly into one of the shuttles inside the bay.

Once inside, we each took a seat and fastened our safety belts. All of our training and countless repetitive drills paid off; Nightcrawler easily piloted the shuttle out of the starship. As his blue fingers worked the controls, I mentally played back the take-off sequence myself since I had simulated it so many times. 

  
We didn't talk much on the way down to the planet. I think everyone had rehashed enough the conversations about what we might find on the planet's surface to the point where no one wanted to discuss it.

I wondered how Storm held up inside a confined space such as this. She told me she had no trouble with her claustrophobia on a starship as it was so big. But I ventured that she wouldn't want to remain inside a much-smaller shuttlecraft for too long. 

I then marveled at how Marrow and Psylocke had shared this small a living space for so long. The shuttle was roomy enough for the six of us on such a mission, but I had lived in studio apartments that were three times bigger than the length and width of the shuttle! Two people living here permanently would've collided with each other constantly. I wondered what they did about personal hygiene. The shuttle did have a tiny bathroom consisting of a toilet and sink, but that was it. I vaguely remembered airplanes on earth and would have to say that the shuttle's bathroom might even have been smaller than an airplane's washroom. I think that a big guy like Colossus would've barely fit inside. And then my thoughts turned gloomy thinking of Colossus, the gentle giant, a man who loved to paint, another human being killed by the Friends of Humanity. He left behind a grieving lover named Elena. 

I was glad when we came nearer to the planet's surface and my thoughts ceased their depressing spirals.

"We are close enough now that I can teleport us down," Nightcrawler said. Back on board Freedom, the distance had been too great for him to teleport down but now we were close enough.

And then, just like that, the shuttle and all of us inside were teleported to the planet's surface. It happened so quickly, I really didn't feel a thing. Before I knew it, Kurt's fingers danced over the controls to open the shuttle's hatch, and we all stood up to disembark from the small vessel. I walked down the ramp after Storm and Wolverine. 

My senses were overwhelmed when I set foot on the planet's ground. Living on board a starship for two and a half months just dulls your senses in a way. You get used to breathing the same neutral air, seeing the metallic walls, feeling the same unchanging temperature, walking on flat surfaces. But standing on the planet's ground, I immediately noticed wind hitting my face, bringing with it the fragrant scent of leaves. There was another faint scent in the air, something crisp which reminded me vaguely of cinnamon. I heard a noise in the dark distance and reacted with a jump----until I realized it was a simple bird call. The ground was slightly uneven and I lost my footing for a second. Tall, thick grass covered the ground; it was grassier than anything I remembered on earth.

"The dilithium is this way," Storm said, looking at her tricorder and gesturing in a direction. "Gambit and Rogue, please stand by the shuttle and guard the area. Even though it is cloaked, we still do not want anyone to come into contact with it. Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and Iceman----follow me." 

"Good job teleportin' us, Kurt," Wolverine said, sounding more jovial than usual. "You got us down real close to what we came for."

We walked in the direction of the dilithium, and I wondered if perhaps Wolverine was in a good mood because he so enjoyed the outdoors over being cooped up inside a starship. It was dark and I couldn't see well, but when I'd glimpsed Storm's face, her eyes seemed to be shining too. Somehow, you just felt so **alive** being outdoors like this. I took deep breaths of the air and enjoyed the sensation of my lungs expanding and releasing. I even liked the feel of walking through the long grass----I had boots on so I didn't feel much, of course, but it still was a different experience than walking on smooth metallic floors of a starship. 

The shuttle didn't have enough energy left for us to use the transporter to get the dilithium aboard, so we would have to break off pieces of it and carry it back with us. Back on board Freedom before we set out for our mission, I had overheard Cyclops getting seriously worried over whether we'd even have enough processed dilithium left on board to convert the raw dilithium from the planet. 

We didn't walk for more than a minute or two when we came to a large surface, resembling a huge rock. I'd seen a chunk of raw dilithium before, on the Paradise planet. This was it. "Right here," Wolverine pointed. "I can smell it." 

Storm turned towards Wolverine and made a gesture with her arm. He unsheathed his adamantium claws and easily broke a chunk of it down into smaller pieces. 

So the four of us got to work, picking up armloads and then turning to walk back to the shuttle with them. The pieces were 30-40 lbs each, I guessed, and I was glad for the weight training I'd been doing for the past several years. Kurt was lucky as he didn't need to walk; he simply made several teleported trips in the time it took me to make one trip on foot.

"Maybe we oughtta have Rogue take one of our places," I suggested to Storm as I walked next to her on one of our trips back to the shuttle. "I'm not like complaining or anything, but she's so strong, you know she could carry a lot more than either of us can, and faster probably."

"I wanted her to guard the shuttle," Storm said. "In the event that there is any trouble, her strength could be very useful. Guarding the safety of our method of transport is **critical**, especially since Freedom no longer has even the energy to beam us back up. We do not want to become trapped down here."

I nodded, though Storm probably couldn't see the acknowledgement in the dark. I smiled and said something like, 'That's why you're the boss.'

Wolverine was walking ahead of Storm and I. I knew that we were coming to the place where the shuttle was parked; despite the fact that the shuttle was now invisible to us, I remembered the lay out of the trees and bushes. Wolverine stopped dead in his tracks and I nearly walked right into him.

"What is it?" I asked.

And then I looked around and realized. Rogue and Gambit were gone.

*****************

Most of the remaining X-men were now clustered on the bridge, eagerly awaiting the results of the away team's mission. 

"I wish we had the power to turn our maximum sensor array back on," Cyclops said. "With the reduction in power to our sensors, we're practically blind."

"Fortunately I have ways to sense them still," Jean said, smiling. "And all seems to be going well so far."

"I hope this won't take too long," Dani Moonstar said. "I can't wait till we get more dilithium and can head back to An'zhina."

"Well, we certainly timed it well," Panda said, looking at one of the monitors. "It's nightfall on the part of the planet they shuttled to, and from what our limited sensors can detect, there aren't any people around."

Cyclops began, "I just wish we….." he cut himself off when he saw the look on his wife's face. "What's wrong, Jean?"

Jean's eyes were wide. "Panic. They are feeling a bit of panic." She paused. "Let me contact them."

Jean then shut her eyes and concentrated on speaking directly into her fellow X-men's minds. //What's wrong, Storm?// Jean 'asked.'

//It is Rogue and Gambit.// Storm thought back. //They were guarding the shuttle and now they are gone. Can you reach them, Jean?//

Jean hesitated. She simultaneously spoke out loud and into Storm's mind. "I am sensing something that I have not encountered before…..It's very hard to describe. I think that Rogue and Gambit are still out there but…..but it's like there's fog and I can't reach them. I can't quite get through to them….but they're there."

"But why can't you reach them?" Scott asked.

Jean had no answer. 

**************

Help feed an author's soul----send feedback. Please either email it to stormkpr@usa.net or post a review on fanfiction.net


	3. Chapter 3

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

by Stormkeeper

CHAPTER THREE

My heart started beating faster. I couldn't believe that Rogue and Gambit had just vanished. Wolverine said, "I can smell which way they went. Follow me." So we quickly placed the dilithium we'd acquired into the shuttle and followed Wolverine.

"They couldn't have gone too far," Kurt said, teleporting back to the shuttle join the rest of us. "We have not been gone long." 

The three of us then followed Wolverine. We swiftly walked towards a heavily wooded area. The shuttle and the dilithium had been in a clearing, but Wolverine was apparently tracking Rogue and Gambit towards a forested area. Storm flew slightly above us to get a better view. We had to step over twigs and dodge thick bushes. I got a scrape on the side of my face from something as I tried to keep up with the others. This forest seemed woodier and heavier than those on An'zhina. Kurt held a flashlight to help illuminate our way.

I considered making a joke along the lines of how funny it would be if the two of them had simply decided they couldn't restrain themselves and were screwing in the woods, but I knew they wouldn't do that on a mission like this. 

"I see them," Storm said.

"I smell them. Up ahead," Wolverine said. 

Wolverine pushed a thick bush out of the way, and we came to a halt when we saw Rogue and Gambit sitting together on a large, fallen branch in a small clearing. Standing in front of them was a man. 

"Hello, Wolverine, Storm, Iceman and Nightcrawler," the man said.

It was mega-confusion time, at least for me. This guy was apparently speaking English! And he knew our names. This man looked human, just as human as the Endarians appeared. I would say that the man was perhaps in his forties, tall and slender with salt-and-pepper colored hair and a mustache and beard. His hair was long. He wore a dark cloak----I couldn't really see what else he had on.

But Gambit and Rogue were the strangest part of this whole thing. They just sat there on the branch, looking straight ahead. Like zombies or something. 

"Who are you?" Storm asked. "How do you know our names, and what have you done with our friends?"

"There is no cause for concern, Storm," the man replied. "My name is Dagron. I noticed that I had visitors from another world and I wanted to get to know them."

"What did you do to 'em?" Wolverine asked, peering at Rogue and Gambit. "They're lookin' pretty out of it."

"Your friends are unharmed. I simply wanted to know more about where they came from and what they are doing here."

As this Dagron guy spoke, I noticed Storm take out a tricorder and scan Rogue and Gambit. Apparently they really were alright; Storm did not look concerned.. 

"We would like to return to our shuttle now," Storm said. "Reverse whatever it is you have done to them."

"And do it now," Wolverine said, with a look on his face indicating he would unsheathe his claws in an instant. I myself was ready to shoot out a burst of ice at this guy if I had to. 

"I will gladly do so," Dagron said, "in due time. It seems an exchange of some sort is in order. After all, you are taking a substance from my land, a substance you need very much. In return, I want to know more about you and what you plan to use it for. If you'll allow me but a few more minutes with them."

Storm's response surprised me. She agreed to it. I later found out that Jean had telepathically hooked up with Storm again and assured her that Rogue and Gambit were basically alright….just "on hold." Storm's own tricorder scan had confirmed that physically they were unharmed as well. Storm gave Wolverine a look which commanded that he stand down from his urge to fight this guy. So we had an awkward few minutes as we stood around Rogue and Gambit and this Dagron. We were all silent. I could hear the sounds of the forest whispering all around us. An animal which sounded, I swear, just like an owl made a hooting noise. 

Then Dagron nodded. "You may leave now. Feel free to take as much of the substance you call dilithium as you need." He then snapped his fingers, and Rogue and Gambit both looked like they'd just waken up from a nap. 

"Where are we?" "What's goin' on?" the two of them asked, looking around. 

"Are you alright?" Nightcrawler asked. 

"Yeah," Rogue said, her voice slow and weary. "'Cept I feel like I been nappin' for a while…..How'd we get over here?" 

"Come on, let's get out of here," Storm said. "We will explain later." As we helped Gambit and Rogue to their feet, Wolverine turned his head. 

"He's gone," he said. "Dagron's gone."

I looked up from Rogue and Gambit, and saw that Dagron had somehow silently and instantly departed the clearing. 

"I wish I knew what the hell just happened," I muttered.

"Dat make two of us," Gambit said, rubbing his head. 

"Let's sort this out later," Storm said. "For now, let us return to the shuttle and take inventory. We might have enough dilithium to leave this place now."

Rogue and Gambit were still weak, so Nightcrawler held onto both of them as he teleported them and himself back to the shuttle. Storm seemed to be in a hurry as well. She grabbed one of my hands and one of Logan's, and flew us back to the shuttle. 

Rogue and Gambit were sitting down inside the shuttle, as Nightcrawler ran the dilithium through several scans. 

"This is enough to get Freedom back to An'zhina," he said. 

Storm looked over his shoulder and shook her head. "To be safe, Kurt, I think we need a little more. I find this place as unsettling as I suspect the rest of you do, now but we must ensure that we truly have enough dilithium."

"Then I will teleport one more time," Kurt offered. 

"I'll go with you," Wolverine said. "We can carry more this way."

The two teleported away and returned just seconds later. Storm had already made her way to the captain's chair and started pressing some buttons. When she described the place as "unsettling", I think she was using characteristic understatement. The whole thing was giving me the creeps. I'd never seen Remy and Rogue looking so out of it, and how did that Dagron guy do it so quickly?? And how'd he just disappear? 

"What's wrong?" I asked, at the gasp I heard from Storm. Hearing Storm gasp is just not a good sign either.

"All of our systems are off-line. And I have no idea why! Bobby, it appears that we have no functional propulsion systems on this shuttle."

****************

From Freedom, Jean now continuously monitored the away team's minds. Upon sensing this new burst of panic, she "spoke' directly to Storm. //What is it?// Jean asked.

//The shuttle is completely inoperable.// Storm responded. //I cannot even run a diagnostic on it to determine why---none of the controls are responding. The back-ups are all non-functional too. This makes no sense. It worked just an instant ago when Kurt scanned the dilithium.//

On board Freedom's bridge, the X-men debated what to do. From the distance they were at, they couldn't diagnose the problem with the shuttle; their reduced sensors could not get anywhere near specific enough. They did not have the dilithium left to launch the other shuttle to go after the other X-men on the planet. And the downed shuttle did not have the equipment necessary to process the raw dilithium, even if its power had been working.

"So how do we get them back on board Freedom?" Jubilee asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. 

Jean saw the eyes of those clustered onto the bridge look towards Cyclops, and she felt her husband's growing fright. He didn't have any ideas. Jean then walked up to one of the computers on the bridge and started pressing a few buttons. 

"I think I have a solution," she said. "We might have enough dilithium to beam them back up."

"But I thought that we didn't," Jubilee said. "I mean, isn't that why we had them take a shuttle in the first place?"

"If we shut down each room and shut down life support everywhere----except engineering. And if we turn off the cloaking device. I think then we'll have enough to beam them back up and to process some of the raw dilithium they have."

Cyclops looked over his wife's shoulder at the projections she was keying in. "That's a brilliant idea," he said. "It would mean leaving the shuttle on the planet though. We don't have enough energy to beam it back up."

Jean nodded. "Once we process the raw dilithium, we can beam the shuttle back up."

"Shutting down the cloaking device is terribly risky!" Jeanne-Marie said.

"I think we have no other choice at this point," Jean said. "If we can process the dilithium quickly, the risk might not be so great."

Many on board Freedom did not like that plan; Jeanne-Marie felt her pulse start to soar. She knew they had to rescue the away team and bring the dilithium back on board. But as the X-men had discussed, in space terms they were not far from Endaria, and according to all last known reports, three Friends of Humanity starships still patrolled Endaria. But the decision was already being made. 

"Let's do it!" Cyclops stated. 

Hector Rendoza spoke up. "What about Mark?" he asked. "Didn't we configure our on-board sensors so that he can't enter engineering?" Indeed Mark was one of only two people on board Freedom who was not standing in the overcrowded bridge; that was another room he'd been barred from. 

"I'll override that piece of programming right now," Panda said, adroitly pressing a few buttons. "Ready!" she said, in seconds' time.

"Beast, meet us in engineering, right away," Cyclops called over his communicator. Hank McCoy still worked away in the lab, never leaving his research. "We're shutting down life support to the rest of the ship!"

"I shall be there straightaway," Hank replied.

The X-men scrambled to relocate themselves into engineering, walking or jogging swiftly down the halls. Once inside engineering, Cyclops quickly performed a count to ensure that they had everyone. 

"Any change in the status of the away team?" he asked Jean.

"No," Jean replied. "Their systems still completely off-line." 

"I'm shutting off all life support now," Cyclops said. 

**************

The six of us stood or sat inside the shuttle. I was starting to feel as dazed and confused as Rogue and Gambit looked. But next thing I knew, I was being beamed back aboard Freedom. 

"We have them all!" I heard Jubilee exclaim.

And then it was a blur. I think Cyke had Shaman and Panda get to processing the dilithium, Hank scanned us with a tricorder, while Jean looked us over. We were all pronounced to be in good physical health, none of us having picked up anything while on the planet's surface.

But Rogue and Gambit still looked as if they'd spent last night getting wasted and now had the hangover of the century. I'd really never seen them looking like this. 

"How do you feel?" she asked them, as the others scrambled feverishly in the background to get the dilthium into a usable format. I'd heard something about our cloaking device being off and knew that meant we had to get this dilithium ready for use ASAP. 

"Tired," Gambit managed.

"I feel weird," Rogue said, her words slurring together oddly. 

I couldn't make sense out of what had just occurred, so I decided to stand against a wall and let the others figure things out. As the others madly processed the dilithium and Jean looked at Rogue and Gambit, I made my way over to where Jean-Paul stood. Engineering was a fairly large area, but with everyone crammed inside, room to maneuver was limited. In the background, I saw little Aurora running around and Jubilee trying to calm the child down. Rory ran into Nightcrawler, and he picked her up and cooed to her in such a way that she quieted down. I managed to reach Jean-Paul's side.

"Hi," I said. 

"Hello," he replied, reaching for one of my hands and grasping it. But his face was a mask. 

Jean-Paul, I had noticed during the time we'd been together, had a few different facial expressions that I would see. My favorite was a look of love that he'd give only to me, his eyes blazing. But other times his face would display what I referred to (in my mind, at least) as 'the mask'-----the unreadable look of him retreating into himself and not wanting to deal with the outside world. That was how he appeared at that time. I swallowed my melancholy. Well, at least he reached to hold my hand. But that didn't mitigate the fact that we were in for a difficult period for our relationship, the relationship may or may not survive, and Jean-Paul might succumb to this disease at any point….no, life was just not going to be easy anytime soon. 

"Done!" I heard Panda say. "We've processed the dilithium and we have enough to take us back to An'zhina."

"I'm re-engaging the cloaking device," Cyclops said. "Sensors show we're still alone out here." He looked down at his monitor and I could tell something was wrong. "I'm trying to lock onto the shuttle and beam it back on board…..but it's gone."

Cyke and the others were stumped by that. They checked and rechecked all the sensors and could not figure out why they were unable to detect the shuttle. Since our dilithium supply was replenished, they had enhanced sensors back on and should have been able to pinpoint the shuttle as easily as they'd been able to beam us up.

"I wonder if that man---Dagron---has something to do with this," Storm said.

"Who?" Jean asked.

"Dagron," Storm repeated. "The man who…lured Rogue and Gambit away from the shuttle. When you communicated with me telepathically, were you not also able to tell that another mind was there?"

"No," Jean said, sounding perplexed. "I wasn't looking for anyone else, but all I sensed was the five of you."

"That Dagron guy's the reason Rogue and Gambit are lookin' like they were hit by a bus," Wolverine added.

"Whoever he is, he must be very powerful," Nightcrawler said. "If indeed it is him who is causing all this."

I saw Jean take another look at Rogue and Gambit. She closed her eyes and nodded. "I do sense….the footprint, so to speak, of another. It is as though both of your minds were opened and scanned by some….great power."

"That's almost what it feels like," Rogue said. "I know what it's like when I got someone else in my head and that's what I felt like," she said, referring to, I guess, Carol Danvers. Rogue had told me that story during one of those long, lazy days on the Paradise planet, about how Ms. Marvel had been contained inside her mind for a long time.

Gambit nodded. "'Dough I feel like it gone now."

"Me too," Rogue agreed. I was glad to hear that both of them were starting to sound a bit more like themselves.

We X-men talked some more and decided to just head back to An'zhina. No matter what the others tried, they couldn't find the shuttle. We hated the idea of leaving it on this strange world----imagine, as Hank pointed out, the ramifications of leaving a shuttle from earth on a planet which does not yet have warp capability. We might **really** have fucked with their natural evolution. But try as we might, we couldn't locate the thing and it just didn't make sense for us to send any more parties down to try and find it. Not after the kinds of things that occurred on our mission. It was far too risky.

So back to An'zhina it was. A few cheers in engineering broke out when Cyke programmed Freedom to take us back to our heavenly haven. 

We had enough dilithium to get us back there, but we didn't have much to spare either. Therefore, we decided to continue keeping most parts of the ship shut down. We did reopen the personnel quarters so we'd no longer have to sleep in the mess hall (yay!!), and we decided to re-open the gym/Danger Room for limited time periods. We kept the rec room shut down though; we'd simply continue to use the mess hall as our "hanging out" place. All the children's toys were there anyway. We slightly raised the ship temperature and decided to travel at a slower speed so that although we were near An'zhina, the trip would take an additional two weeks. If we went at maximum warp, we'd be there in far less time, but warp speed really drains the dilithium. 

"Yay!" Jubilee said. "I'm so glad the mission was a success. We'll be home in two weeks!"

She summed up how I felt. I was glad to leave that strange world behind and couldn't wait to get back to An'zhina.

*************

The overcrowded shuttle reached the dense mists that surrounded Endarian space. Its cloaking device intact, it was able to slip past the two FOH starships which patrolled that area of space. 

Professor X, Angel, Moira and Banshee met the shuttle when it docked. As the Xavier's powers had foretold, they found nine female mutants, all former captives of the Friends of Humanity. The tale they told was surprising, but not altogether shocking either. The women had been rescued by two who met the description of Psylocke and Marrow. Moira and Banshee took the nine under their wing and showed them around An'zhina.

"Well, I'm happy for these ladies, that they're free now. But that doesn't bring us any closer to my daughter or my two younger grandkids," John Grey proclaimed.

His wife Elaine nodded. "We have to be patient, John," she said. "You know what Charles told us. The minute he senses that the X-men are returning to An'zhina, he'll let us know."

John forced himself to take a deep breath and exhale is slowly. "I know. Ever since Jean joined the X-men, I've done nothing but worry about her."

"This is the burden we must bear."

"I suppose," John added, after a pause, "that it is nothing compared to the burden that Jean—and the others like her---have to deal with."

**************

As soon as the dilithium had been processed and the X-men started to file out of engineering, Northstar returned to the mess hall to carry his belongings back to his quarters. He was glad to be finished with spending nights on a sleeping bag in the same room with everyone else. Every fiber in his body yearned for **privacy.** He couldn't take any more condolences, anymore "Is there anything I can do to help you?''s. Now everyone knew (if they hadn't guessed it before) that the FOH soldiers had raped him, now everyone knew that he had HIV. He knew that he should not feel shame over these things….but still, it was all way too much, far too invasive.

Before leaving engineering, he nodded at Jeanne-Marie, knowing (and loving the fact that) she understood exactly how he felt. Northstar's head felt heavy when he thought of Bobby, though, and saw the look on his lover's face when he slipped out of engineering. Fortunately, Bobby had the sense to give him some solitude and not charge right after him.

And so alone Northstar remained for several hours, until his communicator sounded.

"It's Bobby. I just wanted to let you know that dinner's ready." 

A pause. "Thanks for telling me."

"…are you gonna eat with the group?"

"I don't think so. I need some time alone."

"You want me to bring your dinner to you?"

Another pause this time. Northstar was split between his own desires, and not wanting Bobby to feel like a servant. Jean-Paul could go get his own dinner when everyone was finished. "I don't want to inconvenience you," he said, sounding more cold than he wanted.

It was Bobby's turn to hesitate, and Jean-Paul knew from his lover's tone that he had hurt him. "You're never an inconvenience to me. I would be happy to do it."

"Okay. And Bobby…thanks."  


Moments later, Bobby appeared at Northstar's door with a tray full of food. "You want some company when you eat or do you wanna be alone?" Bobby asked.

Northstar noted that Bobby was doing an admirable job keeping the pain out of his voice. "I thank you, ma coeur, for being understanding of me. I think I would like to be alone for now."

Bobby nodded and silently withdrew.

Northstar ate very slowly, thinking as he chewed each bite. For a mutant with the ability to move at hyper-speeds, he had come to develop an appreciation for slowness too. That appreciation would grow more and more now, he speculated. He took his time with dinner and savored each bite. `Who knows how much time I truly have left to live?' Jean-Paul asked himself. It was a mind-boggling thought, one which he pondered endlessly. `I'm not sick now, but anything could happen. I might have a few months left, or I might have eight years.' 

More time passed and it was getting late on board the ship. Jeanne-Marie used her communicator to wish her brother goodnight. Her action prompted Jean-Paul to then call Bobby.

"I just wanted to wish you good night, amour," Jean-Paul said.

Jean-Paul could practically hear Bobby smile on the other end. "Pleasant dreams to you, too." Bobby paused. "Do you want a hug before you turn in?"

Jean-Paul hesitated. No, he really did not want a hug, frankly. But he wanted even less for Bobby to feel hurt. He sighed inwardly. Shaman had once told him that relationships were all about compromise, and Jeanne-Marie had added, `You can't have it your way all the time, mon frere, although we both know that is what you want, oui?'

"Yes, I would," Jean-Paul answered Bobby's question.

"I'll be right there."

Bobby was at Jean-Paul's room in an instant, clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt. "You look like you are all ready for bed," Jean-Paul commented.

"I was." Bobby walked over towards the bed and sat right down upon it. "You still have your uniform on. Are you going to change? You still have that cozy sweatshirt, right?"

"Of course. It's still too cold on this ship to sleep without." He looked at Bobby sitting on the bed and walked over towards him. Bobby held out his arms, and Northstar allowed himself to be hugged. 

"It feels so nice to have my arms around you," Bobby murmured, hugging Northstar tight. 

Northstar didn't reply but he did return the hug. Bobby started gently moving his hands, his caresses gradually becoming more and more insistent. 

Northstar pulled away. "It is time for us to sleep."

"Can I sleep here?" Bobby asked, eagerly.

Northstar shut his eyes. Bobby certainly could be persistent. "No, amour. I told you that I need some time alone. You understand, oui?"

Bobby looked downwards, though his grip on Jean-Paul remained; he still had one arm around Northstar's shoulders and the other resting on his thigh. "Then maybe I can stay just a little while longer?"

A few moments of silence slipped away. Northstar couldn't meet those pleading eyes. "Alright," he replied. 

Bobby again drew him closer, into another hug. "You're so tense," Bobby murmured, his hands working. "You need to relax. Maybe I could give you a backrub."

"I'd prefer not," Jean-Paul kept his voice flat.

"Why not?" Bobby asked, undeterred though he knew where Northstar's thoughts were headed. 

"You know why not."

"Well, tell me anyway."

"Because every time we do something like that, it always leads to something more than just a backrub." He moved himself away from Bobby's reach, out of the grasp of his hands. He turned and sat with both feet on the floor.

"So what if it does?" Bobby asked innocently. "Then it will really help you relax." Upon seeing Northstar sigh markedly, Bobby pressed on. "Jean-Paul, you read the literature that Hank gave us. People can live for seven or eight or ten years---or more!---with this disease. Do you mean to tell me that we're **never** going to make love again?" Bobby kept his voice solid and steady but persistent.

He scoffed. Did Bobby not understand?? "Bobby, amour, don't you realize….if I infect you, then I will never **ever** forgive myself!" Northstar didn't try to hide the passion or the pain he felt over this prospect.

"Then you won't infect me!" Bobby asserted. "We can do it safely." 

"Everything is just so simple with you, isn't it?" Northstar barked. 

"And you don't need to make life more difficult than it already is," Bobby said, softness in his voice. He looked into his lover's eyes.

"Perhaps you are right," Northstar said quietly. Somehow Bobby's calmness and steadfastness were very reassuring. And something about Bobby standing firm was pleasing as well. "If we take precautions…." He let his voice trail off.

Bobby then gently pulled Northstar closer to him and kissed the side of his face. His hands started to caress Jean-Paul's body again, slowly and rhythmically as he nuzzled his lover's face with kisses. At some point, Northstar began to reciprocate, returning kisses and putting his hands under Bobby's shirt. Bobby felt his lover relax and surrender. His tongue found its way inside Northstar's mouth as his hands rubbed against thighs. Content and excited to be taking the lead, Bobby planted wet kisses down Jean-Paul's soft neck, evoking a moan. Bobby practically wanted to squeal with glee. He was so glad that Jean-Paul agreed to this, his heart dancing with joy at holding his lover like this.

Soon, Northstar's uniform was shed and Bobby was kissing a trail down towards his groin. Bobby knelt on the floor in front of him and began to use his lips and tongue. 

Northstar stiffened and then sighed with the pleasure he felt. Slowly and languorously, Bobby licked and loved the tip of Northstar's cock. A few drops of precum presented themselves, and Northstar tried to draw back, but Bobby wouldn't let him. He circled his tongue around and around the head of the shaft. Northstar tried to relax as his hands reached down to rumple Bobby's hair. Before he knew it, Bobby had engulfed most of his cock and was moving his head up and down, contracting his throat muscles against it. Northstar moaned again. `Mon dieu, I am so weak!' he thought. `All my resolve slipped away so easily.' What Bobby was doing just felt so good that he couldn't resist. 

A few moments passed, Northstar enjoying himself immensely but not allowing himself to get swept away. He mustered every ounce of self-control. "That's good, amour. I'm close to cuming now," Northstar whispered as he tenderly pushed Bobby's face away.

It was much sooner than usual but Bobby understood that Jean-Paul was going to be careful to not ejaculate inside his mouth. A good idea, Bobby knew. Watching Northstar then use his hand to pump himself, Bobby knew that he would miss swallowing his lover's cum. But he did enjoy the visual delight he was witnessing. Northstar spilled his cum on Bobby's shoulder as Bobby kissed and licked his abdomen. Moments later, Bobby reached to touch the stickiness, but Jean-Paul moved his hand away. "I know," Bobby said, quietly.

Northstar then gestured for Bobby to lay on his back on the bed. Bobby's pants were pulled down and Northstar kissed his way towards Bobby's midsection, ready to reciprocate for the man he loved. Somewhere along the line, Northstar realized something. `Whether I am to live for eight more years or eight more weeks, I damn well want to enjoy them!'

**************

"Man, I'm so glad we're heading back for that An'zhina place," Hector Rendoza said one day, sitting next to his friend Sam Guthrie on the bridge.

"Me too," Sam agreed. He shook his head. "You know, it's weird. Before we left, the Professor asked me what I expected my first mission as an X-man to be like. And I'd heard from Gambit and Beast and everyone all these exciting stories of things they did in the past. I never really expected that life as an X-man would mean sitting around on bridge duty and spending weeks in a starship with nothing happening." He looked from Hector back out towards the large viewscreen on the bridge, watching the endless array of black space and shining stars fly by.

"At least we can train again since the Danger Room's open again. Look at these muscles I'm getting." To punctuate his claim, Hector rolled up a shirt sleeve and flexed a muscle. 

Sam smiled wryly. "I can see. I can see **easily** since your skin is see-through." He knew that Hector was ok with him making reference to his unusual appearance. The two young men had spent months ensconced in the attic at John and Elaine Grey's house and were able to say virtually anything to each other.

Hector glowed with the praise and didn't seem to mind his obvious peculiarity being called out at all. In fact, Sam had noticed that his friend seemed to have an air of confidence about him lately, an air which Sam felt couldn't be explained solely by Wraith's increase in fitness. 

"You miss earth?" Wraith asked.

"Sure I do. I really miss my parents and sister. I even miss workin' in the mines. And I miss the girls too," Cannonball added. 

"Girls? What's up, hombre? I thought you didn't have a chica back on earth."

"You mean a girlfriend? Well, I don't---not anymore. I mean, I have a few ex-girlfriends. I actually kinda miss one of `em." Sam went on to talk at length about Nancy, a non-mutant woman. High school sweethearts, Sam and Nancy had been together for about a year. Sam spoke fondly of her, without bitterness now as he himself had been the one to end it. He shook his head. "I sure miss having a girlfriend." Then, realizing that he'd talked a lot and Wraith had been quiet, he felt somewhat awkward. Obviously Wraith had no previous dating experience to talk about (nor was it likely he'd have any future experience either) and he surmised that Wraith had to be a bit jealous. 

"What about Jubilee?" Hector asked. Upon seeing no response from Sam, he pressed. "She doesn't have a boyfriend. Looks like she'd want one too, I think." He added that last sentence in because, as both men know, so many of the women who lived on An'zhina had been horribly scarred from their experience with FOH and were not exactly eager to jump into the dating game. Jubilee, however, seemed to be mostly recovered from her ordeal.

"I do think she's awful cute. I never dated an Asian girl before, but she's real pretty. And she's fun to hang out with. But I dunno. She don't seem interested in me." Sam didn't want to admit that he was petrified of rejection and he despised making the first move. He'd been turned down once before and wasn't in a hurry to repeat that painful experience.

"If she was interested, you think you'd go out with her?"

"Sure I would," Sam shrugged. "I'll try anything once. Though it sure ain't gonna be like home where you can take a gal to dinner and a movie. I don't even know what you'd **do** on a date on board this ship. But man….it sure would be nice to kiss a girl again." And, he silently added, do other things, about which he had bragged earlier to Hector. 

There was silence on the bridge for a few moments. Then Hector decided to do some bragging of his own. "Hey, Sam….guess what happened to me a while ago. I slept with Storm."

Wraith went on to relay, to a disbelieving Cannonball, the morning Storm that charged into his room and seduced him. 

Sam listened to his friend, trying to keep from smirking. `Poor Hector,' he thought. `I really did make him jealous with all this talk about girls.' Sam had heard other guys in high school boast like Hector was now and he didn't believe half of it then either. `What is he smokin'? No way would Storm ever do that. 'Sides, she and Wolverine are together now. And if this really happened, why'd Hector wait so long to tell me `bout it?' Sam bit his lip to keep from making up a crazy story of Jean Grey seducing him (something he would **definitely** have welcomed.)

When Wraith was finished, Sam told him that he was happy for him and promptly changed the topic.

*************

Rogue had to admit that Gambit generally had a lot of good, creative ideas. 

They were availing themselves of one of those ideas now. Rogue smiled, wondering why she suddenly felt self-conscious. `Well, 'course I feel self-conscious,' she said to herself. `I feel like I did when Remy and I first got together.' Her heart fluttered and her limbs felt like melted cheese. Remy always had an effect on her. And their plans for tonight helped bring back those feelings when she was first realizing how much she cared about him and first opening herself to the possibility of a relationship. She would never forget the combination of excitement and nervousness of those days. 

Rogue took a breath and pressed the button to slide the door aside. She emerged from the small washroom and entered the main part of their quarters. As all rooms on board Freedom, it was compact and utilitarian, consisting of little more than a bed (which scarcely accommodated two people), closet, tiny dresser, nightstand, metal desk with matching chair, a plush reclining chair the couple had brought from An'zhina, and a mirror also from An'zhina. The married couple occasionally brought in a small card table and chairs, when they wanted to enjoy a meal together alone. When those extra pieces of furniture were brought in, it became nearly impossible to maneuver around the room without jostling against something.

Tonight the room was mostly dark, lit by a few candles which rested on the nightstand and desk. Rogue smiled as she padded to the bed and sat down on it. The darkness brought back warm memories; she used to insist on darkness, as the cover of the dark made everything so much easier for her during the beginning. 

It later became something she and Remy had fought over because he loved **looking.** He loved using his other senses too; he loved feeling and tasting and touching and hearing…..but he really loved **looking.** Remy wanted to be able to look and see everything. A patient man, he had waited until Rogue had gotten comfortable with him and with the way their relationship had progressed. Eventually, Rogue had given in and permitted the lighting to be on. 

At this point, that was all ancient history for them. But tonight they were reverting to the comfort of the darkness. It was Gambit's idea that tonight they start out making love as they once had, before the collars, before Rogue mastered her powers. Back when they couldn't touch each other without having something between them. And so that meant the only permissible light would be candlelight.

She groped for the communicator, thinking she had left it on the nightstand. When she realized that it was not there, she walked over to the desk and found it. 

"I'm ready, Remy," she said. She was wearing a full-length body suit, which covered most of her skin. The soft flannel body stocking completely covered her arms and legs, hands and feet----truly, only her face and the upper part of her neck were exposed. The body suit, however, was skin-tight, accentuating every curve of her figure.

"Be right dere, chere," Gambit said. 

Rogue smiled at the obvious glee in her husband's voice. Like a child being given a pile of birthday presents, he couldn't wait for what was to follow. She walked back to the bed, propped up a few pillows against the bedboard, and reclined against them, waiting.

The door to their quarters opened, and Rogue closed her eyes against the temporary and annoying brightness from the hallway. Gambit set a few items down on the desk and then walked past her, into the small bathroom. When he emerged, he was clad in a pair of black silk pajama bottoms.

Rogue's heart really started thumping at the sight of Remy, standing there in the semi-darkness. His stance suggested strength and confidence, something which had impressed Rogue from the start. Back when she thought it was ridiculous for them to date, to try to begin a relationship, Remy had acted supremely confident from the get-go that it would work out.

But it wasn't just Remy's self-assuredness that was causing Rogue's pulse to accelerate. It was **him**; yes, even after all these years together. The man was beautiful. Beautiful. His auburn hair being pulled back into a ponytail allowed the emphasis on this face. The well-chiseled cheekbones, strong chin, sensuous lips, and those incredibly unique and sexy eyes. As Rogue's gaze traveled downwards she could see, even in the semi-darkness, his amazing form----the shoulders and muscles and arms and abs that would've bested anything Michaelangelo ever sculpted. 

What continued to astound her was the knowledge that **she** had a similar effect on **him.** Gambit, who had experienced so many different women in his lifetime, picked her above all others and wanted to be with her. Rogue was honored.

The combination of all those thoughts and feelings was intoxicating. Rogue sensed her cheeks start to burn. She brushed an arm across her chest and felt that her nipples had hardened. 

Remy walked over towards the bed and reached for one of Rogue's hands. He held it for a moment, gazing into her eyes, and then kissed it through the soft fabric of the body suit. "Remy would be enchanted, chere, if you would spend the evening wit' me."

Rogue smiled sweetly, deciding she liked this game very much. "My pleasure, sugar."

She grasped his outstretched hand and slowly rose from the bed. Remy guided her over towards the bottle of wine and two wine glasses he had carried in. He poured a glass and handed it to her. "Why thank you, Sir," she smiled. Remy then poured himself a glass. They had brought the wine from An'zhina; it had not been illegally replicated on board Freedom. Despite the dilithium they had gathered from the planet, the supply was still not copious and everyone did their part in conservation.

In an ideal setting, Rogue knew, they would have a loveseat to cozy up in, but the reclining chair they brought from An'zhina would have to do for now. Remy gracefully seated himself upon it, and Rogue sat in his lap, careful to not spill her drink. They leisurely drank the wine and chatted about nothing in particular. 

She was less careful now when it came to keeping her face away from Remy's. The couple had agreed to spend this evening paying homage to "the old days", before they were able to touch, but Rogue knew truly that she could relax. If a skin-to-skin touch happened tonight, it would merely go against the rules of "the game" they had agreed to but it thankfully would not put her husband's life in jeopardy. 

But Remy played along very well, cautiously not caressing her face as he usually did. He touched her gently and lightly, running fingertips along arms, shoulders, and her back. He leisurely played with her hair too, knowing that was "safe." Rogue, in turn, touched Remy the way she knew he liked----with a stronger, firmer press. 

Remy brought his lips to one of Rogue's ears, holding them tantalizingly close but just far enough apart. "Remy would like to make love to you tonight, chere," he whispered. Just as in the old days, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end now and she felt dizzied with excitement. "What do you say, ma chere?"

"Yes," she whispered, knowing she sounded as breathless as she felt. She also knew that Remy gained a great deal of pleasure over the fact that he had this effect on her. 

They both rose from the chair, and Remy swiftly scooped her up into his arms. When they first got together, during their years at the mansion---which now seemed like an entire lifetime ago!---they used to do this as well. He would carry her to the bed. Their cramped quarters on board Freedom meant that the bed was only a step or two away from the chair, but they played along with this as best as they could. 

And next thing she knew, Rogue was laying on the bed, on her back. As Remy murmured her praises---telling her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her----he stroked her body through the garment that encased her. The body stocking had been replicated on An'zhina and served its purpose perfectly, the thin material transmitting sensations well. `Still ain't nowhere near as good as the real thing,' Rogue thought. Making love this way on occasion, however, allowed the pair to realize what they had gained and how fortunate they truly were that Rogue had learned to master her powers. 

Remy continued the expert work of his hands, running them along thighs, calves, hips, the sides of her torso. Rogue reveled in the pleasure she was receiving, aware that she was a very lucky woman. Although she'd been with no other man, she knew from talking with other women that she was fortunate indeed to have a man who took his time, savored every moment, and never was in a hurry. 

When they'd first started out, she would routinely have to fight back the fears that welled up when another person touched her in such an intimate manner. Because of the abuse during her childhood, abuse which she'd buried deep inside, touch was a terrifying thing. But both she and Remy were fighters----though her manner of fighting was more direct and his more subtle. Remy's amazing patience had allowed her the space and time she needed to relax. 

So on this evening, she eased into his touches naturally. He nipped at a shoulder and began cupping and stroking a breast through the cloth. He liked gently kneading the flesh. Rogue enjoyed that Remy was taking the lead tonight, too. She knew that he really loved it on the occasions when she took the reigns and became the more active partner during lovemaking---Rogue herself liked it too----but today she just wanted to enjoy his efforts. She likened Remy to an artist in the way he approached his lovemaking.

Rogue groaned deeply and Remy responded by increasing the pace. His fingers danced down towards her core and lightly stroked against the fabric covering that area as he kissed her breasts through the material. "Mmmmmmmm," Rogue sighed. 

"You like dat, chere?" Remy whispered.

"You know I do," she responded. He continued to work his fingers exactly in the manner that she loved. Through the fabric, he touched her wet lips, traveled upwards to stroke against her clitoris, and occasionally traveled back downwards again. She started to move her hips against the touch. Remy's fingers were becoming wet even through the barrier of the cloth. She reached a hand around and caressed him as well----the back of his neck, his shoulders. Around and around he worked his fingers, bringing her little bud to the brink.

Rogue pressed herself against Remy and let out a yell as the sensations overtook her. He felt her spasm and smiled with pleasure. His hand, wrist, and forearms were all somewhat sore but to him it was worth it. When he felt his muscles getting tired, he simply pretended he was an Olympic athlete running the last leg of the race. 

Rogue's instincts now commanded that she kiss Remy's sexy mouth but she knew the rules of the game they played tonight. She reached for a portion of the sheet, placed it over his lips, and kissed him through the cloth. Her eyes then traveled towards the silky pants he still wore and the very visible bulge that protruded. 

They looked at each other and both grinned. "Okay, sugar. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll give you a little taste of down home Southern hospitality."

After Remy made his wishes known, Rogue scrambled to comply. She rose from the bed and slowly removed her garment. Remy sat up. Entranced at her alluring form, his eyes hungrily caressing her curves. Knowing that she was being watched like a hawk in the candlelight, Rogue made a show of cupping her bared breasts. She then turned towards the nightstand, bent over to give him a good view of her backside, and then withdrew a few items from the nightstand's drawer. 

As Remy lay on his back, Rogue carefully pulled his pants down, his erect penis now proudly revealing itself. Just as she used to, Rogue put on a pair of plastic gloves and squirted lubricant all over her hands. She reached for his cock which was jerking with anticipation. Rogue then pumped him up and down, trying to keep her mind on the rules of the game they were playing. She so wanted to kiss his abdomen and rub his chest, play with his nipples as he enjoyed, and lick the head of his cock. 

Remy tilted his head back against the pillow. Although he would obviously prefer to be inside of her, this game had its benefits too. He loved to be reminded of how far they truly had come together. Soon, however, his thoughts abandoned practical ideas and focussed on the sheer pleasure he was receiving. As his body shuddered its release, he called out Rogue's name.

"Sugar," Rogue began, in a sweet and quiet voice, moments later. "Can we end the game for tonight?" She had discarded her plastic gloves.

"Sure t'ing, chere," Gambit said, still reclining amidst the pillows. He was mellow and tired, and very relaxed. "But Remy a little tired now."

"That's okay. I just wanna snuggle with you."

"Den come here," he said, gesturing. She took her place beside him, wrapping her arms around him.

"This feels so much better," she said, resting her head near his and enjoying the scents of their lovemaking, the warmth of their bodies underneath the blankets.

Remy reached a hand to leisurely play with her hair. "Dat is one of the mos' beautiful sites," he said absentmindedly.

"My skunk-stripe?" she asked incredulously, knowing that's where his fingers were twirling.

They both giggled at the nickname given Rogue's streak of white hair. "Well, Remy did say it be **jus' one** of the mos' beautiful sites."

Her hands made their way to his shoulders and down towards his chest. "You're so beautiful, Remy. I know I'm the luckiest gal in the world."

They hadn't intended to, but the couple ended up making love again, this time without the restrictions they had placed upon themselves. It went without saying that it was supremely better this way, so neither said it. It was better for all the obvious reasons, as well as for one additional one. 

The couple was trying to conceive a child.

They had made that decision a few days ago. Once the X-men had the dilithium on board and were warping towards An'zhina, Rogue and Gambit had talked again about children. "We don't know how long it might take for me to get pregnant," Rogue had said. "Moira told me she thinks it might take me a while, given that I'm so thin, and she said women without much body fat sometimes take longer." 

Remy agreed, and he was most swayed by something that Jean Grey had once said. It was along the lines that when she and Scott had decided to start trying to get pregnant, they'd realized that they'd never have "normal" lives---or easy lives, for that matter----and if they waited for something like normalcy, they might never become parents. 

The pair was in no particular hurry to conceive (which was one of the reasons they'd agreed to the game tonight) but they didn't wish to put it off any longer. Rogue's birth control pills sat gathering dust inside the cabinet of their bathroom.

************

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback and comments are always greatly appreciated. Please either post a review on fanfiction.net or email me at stormkpr@usa.net


	4. Chapter 4

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

by Stormkeeper

CHAPTER FOUR

*****************

"Daddy's jealous."

Young Charlotte stated the words as if fact. Scott Summers turned towards his daughter, perplexed.

"What did you say, sweetie?" he asked quietly. The two, along with baby brother Christopher, were playing together in the mess hall (which still doubled as the crew's rec room). A few others were idling around the room as well; Wolverine played with Jubilee's daughter not far from them. Scott kept his voice's tone low, hoping Charlotte would follow his lead when she replied. He really didn't want Wolverine, or anyone else in the room, privy to Charlotte's unadulterated thoughts on his current emotional state. 

Charlotte repeated, "Daddy jealous. Jealous of Mommy. Why?"

Struck by the mixture of innocence and wisdom in his daughter's voice, Scott was rendered speechless for a moment. Charlotte truly felt curious; she just wanted to understand the reason for Scott's emotion. The trouble was, Scott had not been aware of the fact that he was jealous.

He scratched his head and thought about it. Jealous….of Jean? Why in the world would Charlotte think a crazy idea like that? The child had to be wrong. After all, Charlotte was still very young and had obviously not experienced any formal training. 

But Scott decided it couldn't hurt to at least consider her words. The Professor had once suggested it-----that when Scott found himself angry or defensive at something someone said to contemplate whether there might be a grain of truth in it, whether it might be something he did not wish to face. Besides, Charlotte had never before been wrong.

So he thought about it. Jean was, right now, off with most of the other women (except Jeanne-Marie Beaubier) having another healing ceremony inside Storm's quarters. Scott still didn't understand why Charlotte thought he was jealous of her; he certainly wouldn't begrudge Jean time with her friends. Jean had always maintained that time with her girlfriends was important and Scott said he understood. 

Her friends.

Maybe that was it, Scott realized. Jean had friends outside of their relationship. The more Scott thought about it, the more he realized that he didn't really have any.

Of course there were those whom he hung out with, such as Hank McCoy and Warren Worthington. And Kurt sometimes, too. Scott wouldn't have hesitated to call them friends of his, but he also realized that he wouldn't exactly feel comfortable confiding deep secrets in them or asking them for advice on non-X-men related matters, either. He certainly couldn't see himself sitting on the floor of someone's room with them, burning candles and discussing their feelings about something as Jean was certainly doing with the other women right now. 

The women just had it easier, Scott thought. They never had to put up any macho pretense. They all seemed to bond really easily and accept newcomers into their group too. Panda and Moonstar had both been welcomed with open arms. Jeanne-Marie chose not to partake in their healing ceremonies—or any other "girls' nights out" on An'zhina---but she was always invited. The women just didn't seem to have any trouble opening up with each other.

So was that it, he wondered? Were men just genetically programmed to have a harder time with friendship? Scott then watched, out of the corner of his eye, Wolverine playing with Jubilee's kid. Gambit had joined him, they were now conversing, and the two men seemed comfortable together. Plus he knew that Wolverine definitely considered Hank a good friend too. And Gambit was often hanging out with Bobby and Hank; he seemed close with them. And, of course, Hank and Bobby were great friends too. 

So there **were** guys who seemed to have real friendships. Scott now truly experienced the pangs of jealousy inside himself. He wasn't close to any of the guys like that. 'I've made too many enemies over the years,' he thought. `Logan and I tolerate each other now---even respect each other---but it's too much of a stretch to call it a friendship.' Scott and Remy had stopped antagonizing each other a while ago (partly due to the pleas of Jean and Rogue), and maintained a cool distance. `And I always kept Bobby at arms' length,' he added, mentally. 

`I have to admit that in the last few years, it's maybe even gotten worse,' Scott thought. `All my energy and time has been on Jean and the kids.' Even during the time he spent on An'zhina, mentoring and training the rescued mutants, Scott had served as more of a trainer or Uncle-figure to them than a friend. It was the same with the former FOH soldier, Mark. Scott spent time with him, but was Mark truly a friend? 

He shook his head. `No wonder I always feared what I'd do if Jean ever left me. No wonder I lost my mind for a bit when she was gone during the Phoenix saga. She's all I got. She's the only person I open up to.'

Scott looked at Charlotte and saw her smiling at him. He was glad that a problem had been identified, but he had no idea how to solve it. Suddenly, he looked at his watch. It was time for his bridge duty shift. 

With Jean still in the ceremony, Scott would need someone to look after the kids. He rose and walked over to Wolverine. 

"Excuse me, Logan. Would you mind keeping an eye on Charlotte and Chris? I have my bridge duty shift now and Jean's not back from that ceremony."

"Sure, Cyke," he replied, not really even looking at him. But he was great with their kids.

For an instant, looking at Wolverine, Scott's mind flashed back to a few years ago. The setting was this very ship, before it had been re-christened 'Freedom', back when it had belonged to the FOH. Scott remembered those excruciating days, sitting on the floor of the prison cell with the other men, collars around their necks as the soldiers repeatedly raped the X-women. Scott had vomited up any of the food he'd attempted to get down. He remembered Logan sitting next to him, encouraging him to eat. "Keep it together, old pal," Wolverine had said. "You gotta be there for her when we get outta this." There had been something in Logan's voice…_something_. Maybe a recognition that they were both in mental agony together, maybe something that denoted camaraderie. But it wasn't really friendship either.

As Scott walked towards the bridge, he tried to think of solutions. `Maybe Jean and I should invite Hank and Panda over for dinner in our quarters,' he thought. `It would be a chance for us to talk more. In fact, I bet when their baby's born, we'll get even closer, especially since we'll have sons close in age.' 

He stopped himself. `But aren't I supposed to be thinking of ways for me to get to know people **without** Jean?' Because that obviously wouldn't do the trick. Somehow, though, it just seemed that it would be so much easier with Jean and Panda there. Scott wished he could speak with the Professor about this, and resolved to do so when they returned to An'zhina. This topic would make Scott a little uncomfortable but he could ask Xavier his thoughts on it. Making friends had never been a specialty of Scott Summers.

When Scott entered the bridge, he found there someone else who was not skilled at friendship. Northstar.

"Hi," Scott said.

"Hello," Northstar said, swiveling around in his chair and looking surprised at Scott's entry of the bridge. "Is anything wrong?"

"No. I'm here to relieve you of your shift."

Northstar looked at his timepiece. "You are early."

"No, I'm…." Cyclops stopped himself as he looked at his watch. He was **one hour** early. How in the world had he allowed himself to get so distracted and make a mistake like that?? He had a good guess. "Oh. I see I mis-read the time." He shook his head. "My mistake."

Scott turned to leave the bridge but hesitated. He didn't want to go back to Wolverine to retrieve the kids and admit he'd made a mistake about the time. But there was really nothing else to do; he couldn't exactly hide out in his room or somewhere else for an hour. 

"Do you mind if I stay here and run a few diagnostics on the equipment?" he asked Northstar.

"Be my guest." Northstar wanted to add that during his boredom on the bridge, he'd actually checked through the logs and found that all the major pieces of equipment on the bridge had been scanned within the last week. There was no need to test them again anytime soon. `But I'll let Mr. Anal-Retentive do it anyway,' he smirked. 

Scott sat down at the chair next to Northstar's and began punching buttons to run the diagnostics. Northstar silently chastised himself for his thoughts about Scott. During the last few days, he'd noticed himself on a kick to try to see the best in people and stop mentally ripping on them as he frequently did with some of his fellow X-men. He suspected this shift in mindset had something to do with his recent diagnosis. More than once he'd pictured his funeral. He didn't want it filled with people who had nothing kind to say about the deceased, with people who were only attending because of their love for Bobby.

"Jean was telling me that we decided to celebrate Christmas back on An'zhina, for the kids' sake," Jean-Paul said. 

"Yes," Scott said, looking up from the keyboard and offering a brief smile. "Christmas is so important for them. With the way we live, I think we tend to forget about things like that, but Charlotte, Chris and Rory deserve better. Even if it means all the gifts will be replicated."

"At least we will not have shopping malls to contend with," Northstar said. "Of course, it is sad that the real meaning of Christmas gets covered up by the all the materialism." He said the last sentence wistfully; he had not intended to come off as self-righteous and he did not.

His words gave Scott pause, and he looked up from his work at Northstar. "I totally agree. Jean and I talk to the children about God, about Jesus and we want to raise them as Christians, since that's what we are."

Northstar nodded. "I am too." He then specified, "Catholic." Noting the look on Scott's face, he commented, "You seem surprised." This time, Northstar did come off sounding a bit harsh.

Scott shrugged. "I am, but just because it seems there are so many agnostics and atheists and pagans---or whatever you call what Storm is--- around here, that there aren't too many other Christians."

Northstar nodded. "I think that is true, sadly. So many have had such rough lives that they doubt there is a God. And maybe those of us who are Christian are not the type to go beating it over people's heads. But I believe in it. I had Joanne baptized before she died."

"Joanne?" Scott asked. He then said, "Oh. Is she—was she---the baby you adopted?"

"Yes. My little baby who is in heaven now."

"Would you tell me about her?" Scott truly didn't know the story. He'd heard of Joanne a few times but knew nothing of how Northstar came to adopt her, her brief life and death. He found himself intrigued with the idea that Northstar was once a parent.

Northstar and Cyclops sat together for the full hour before Cyclops's shift was to start. They talked the entire time, not just about Joanne but also about other things. When Northstar left the bridge, Scott realized this really was the first time he'd sat down with the man and had a conversation with him.

He couldn't explain why, but he greatly looked forward to telling Jean about this. 

*****************

Dani Moonstar had felt some trepidation, heading into a "healing ceremony." But Storm just smiled and reassured her that although they continued to use that title, in all probability little or no discussion of "what happened with FOH" (as many of them continued to refer to it) would actually take place. 

"Yeah, don't worry," Jubilee had added, taking Dani's arm and leading her towards the room. "It's more of a Gossip Ceremony or Sex Discussion Ceremony than anything else."

Dani smiled broadly, her face reddening a bit, and walked with them to the room. She loved ceremonies. She held her trusty flute under one arm.

"Now, now, Jubilee," Storm said, sounding like the older mentor that she was, "for years, when women came together and talked, it was dismissed as mere gossip. But there is power to it." Storm held a bag full of white and blue candles in her arms.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jubilee said. "I was only joking. But you gotta admit that we do talk about sex a lot too. I'm glad we decided to leave the kids with someone else."

"Soon they might be old enough to participate in the ceremony," Dani offered.

Jubilee shook her head. "Just wait and see the kinds of discussions that happen here."

The group of six were soon sitting in a circle on the floor of Storm's room. Storm, Rogue, Jean, Jubilee, Panda, and Dani were all there; as every time, Jeanne-Marie declined the invitation. To give them more space, the bed had been propped up against a wall. Panda sat upon several cushions. Although her pregnancy had been a breeze so far, the cushions would help her when she rose from the floor.

Once the lights were dimmed and candles lit, Moonstar and Storm opened the ceremony by playing a song. Dani sang, and Storm accompanied her on flute. The music easily transported the women to another place.

"Let us each take a few deep breaths," Storm's mellow, regal voice spoke once the song was finished. "And then let us each silently thank the Goddess—or whatever Divine Power we worship----for bringing us together tonight. For making it possible for us to have this time together to reflect." She paused for several moments. She then spoke again, "And now let us ask whatever Universal Spirit we believe in to be here with us, during this ritual. We ask that we be listened to."

After another moment of silence, Storm opened her eyes and smiled. "We are in the presence of the Divine. Let us each speak our minds. Ask for something, if you wish."

Rogue decided to speak first. Although still slightly uncomfortable with these ceremonies, she had a wish. "I ask that I be able to conceive soon, and that nine months later, Remy and I be blessed with a healthy baby."

A few gasps were heard and all eyes turned to Rogue. She smiled, unable to contain her jubilation. "We made the decision," she explained. "We decided to start tryin' to have a baby."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Jean exclaimed. The others voiced similar thoughts; a few reached over and hugged Rogue. She gladly returned their well-wishes.

When the clamor over Rogue's news died down, Panda spoke up. "I wish for the rest of my pregnancy to go as well as it has been." Although she and Hank were both agnostics, she still gained something from these rituals and enjoyed them.

"I wish that Northstar somehow be healed soon," Jean said. 

"Amen," Rogue added, and everyone else murmured something to that effect as well. 

They hadn't intended it to happen, but so far they had been speaking in the order they sat---which meant that Dani was next. She bit her lip and Jean detected a bit of a blush on the young woman's face. She simply looked down and said, "I wish for love."

  
Jubilee sat on Dani's other side and said, "Ditto." She tilted her head up, as if towards the heavens. "Please send me a boyfriend, like pronto. I've like waited so long." She then quickly added, "And not a loser like Lisman," referring to the mutant on An'zhina whom she'd dated for several weeks before he'd dumped her in favor of Banshee's daughter, Siryn.

Storm said, "I wish for the X-men to make a real difference in the lives of mutants on earth. I hope we can soon return to our home planet and make things better."

Storm's wish was seconded by everyone. The women continued on talking for quite some time. They each named something that they were grateful for as well. When they deemed the time right, they concluded the ceremony. Moonstar ended it by performing a solo on her flute.

"You and Storm both do such a great job playing flute," Jubilee said to Dani as the two walked down the hall, leaving Storm's room.

Dani patted the flute case affectionately. "It's fun to play. And it's easier to learn than you think." She paused, gulped inwardly, and then got up her nerve. "You want me to teach you?"

"Sure!" Jubilee said. She wanted to learn; this would be something new for her and she was ready to try something new. "I'd love it." She balked for a second. "But you gotta bear with me. I never played an instrument before."

"Piece of cake. I'll have you playing songs in no time."

Jubilee moved in closer to Dani and spoke in a near whisper. "Can you believe the news about Rogue and Gambit? Trying to have a baby. It's so cool!"

"I think it's wonderful. I'm excited for them."

"I almost got teary at the news. See, I've known Rogue and Gambit for like ever. I love how….how both of them have come so far."

*****************

During our journey back to An'zhina, I sometimes managed to forget my own personal misery, at least for stretches at a time. I managed to forget the fact that the man I love had HIV. 

You know, looking at what I just wrote, I'm actually being kinda melodramatic here. While I can't say things were back to "normal" with Jean-Paul and I, things **were** sort of ok after that first time we made love in his room. I just tried to follow whatever mood he was in. We often went for long stretches at a time without talking about his diagnosis. He told me one day he didn't want to talk about it, and so we didn't for quite some time---not until he himself brought it up several days later. Sometimes he wanted me closer and consented to us sleeping in the same bed; other times, he said he needed some space. I respected that. We made love on occasion too, though cautiously---always very cautiously---and not as frequently as we used to, either.

If Jean-Paul and I seemed rather calm about the whole HIV diagnosis, sometimes it seemed that Jeanne-Marie was doing enough emoting for all three of us. She obviously was devastated, and we both spent a lot of time consoling her. I was glad to be included in this; the three of us functioned as a family. I'd been a bit worried that the twins might shut me out. And I was learning to deal with Jeanne-Marie's emotional rollercoaster. Her emotions were perpetually tempestuous----understandable, when you think about everything she's been through in life---and we did our best to help her.

One day I sat in our combination dining hall/rec room. Jubes and I were playing with Rory and Charlotte. Gambit and Wolverine sat at a nearby table eating their lunches late (most everyone else was already finished, but I think those two had been beating each other up during a Danger Room session that ran late.) Cyclops entered the room and sat down at the table with them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I observed their table. It was interesting. Cyke went over to Remy and Wolverine and like tried to engage in friendly banter with them. At least, that's what I think he was doing. I can't say he was a smash success with it.

But Cyclops did ask them something. He asked if, when they got back to An'zhina, they would help him build a playset for the kids. "I had something in mind that had swings and a slide….maybe also with a little play area, like a tree house inside it as well." He then paused and said, "Are you guys interested in helping me with this?"

"Glad to," Wolverine said. As always, he didn't sound terribly enthusiastic but I could tell he was sincere. Plus he loved the kids and loved making things for them; everyone knew that.

"What about you, Gambit?" Cyke asked. "You know, you might be a father someday too."

Gambit smiled. "How did you know, Cyke? Rogue an' I be tryin' already to have a kid."

"Is that so?" Cyke asked. He then went on….wishing them luck, saying he was happy for them, happy that Charlotte and Chris would have more playmates, etc, etc. I kinda got the idea, though, that he already knew that Rogue and Gambit were trying to get pregnant. (I knew already. Remy had told me a few days ago.)

Somewhere along the way, Cyclops asked Wolverine, "What about you and Storm? Do you think you might have kids someday?"

Wolverine's reply was, as always, short and to the point. "I don't think so."

I didn't think they'd have kids either. As far as I could tell, Storm was probably getting past the age where a woman normally bears a child. There were whispers, too, that she was infertile. Not that it mattered much, at least not to me. And I bet it didn't matter to Wolverine much either. 

By the way, my feelings were not at all hurt that Cyclops didn't ask me for my help with the playset, even though I was sitting right there. (See the sarcasm?) I mean, sheesh, I know I'm no good at that kinda stuff, but he could've at least asked. I later learned from Hank that Cyke had enlisted his help on the project too. (Which certainly made sense since Hank was going to be a Daddy too, though Hank had said he would need to postpone helping Scott because of all the HIV research he was doing.) Maybe Cyke thinks that gay men are just completely incapable of or uninterested in constructing children's swingsets.

Jubilee went over to thank the guys for it, for their interest in building a playset for the kids. After Cyke left the room, Gambit and Wolverine exchanged a look but didn't say anything.

*****************

Professor Xavier's sleep was disturbed by a voice, another presence speaking to his mind. This was not a rare occurrence. More than once, his old friend Magnus had appeared to him and spoken with him in his mind. 

The Professor did not have a rational explanation for Eric's occasional appearances. It was possible that these were just very lucid dreams. Or perhaps Charles's subconscious longed for his old friend and was somehow acting out dialogs he wished he were having. It was also possible that Magnus had a way to communicate from beyond the grave, though Charles knew this explanation was irrational. Still, he had no doubt that Eric **was** dead, and it was a fact that Magnus never had telepathic abilities during his lifetime.

But tonight, the voice inside his mind did not belong to Magneto. Someone else was contacting him.

//You know there are two Friends of Humanity starships outside of Endaria.//

//I know.// Xavier replied, now fully awake. He sat up in his bed and looked around the dark, empty room.

//I bet Queen Marina's furious. I hope she doesn't kick you out.//

//What is it that you want, Betsy?//

//Nothing.// Psylocke telepathically responded. // I just wanted to check in with you. I see that the X-men aren't back from their mission yet.//

//Do you have any news of them?//

//They're fine, Xavier. Last we saw them, they'd managed to lose all their dilithium. That FOH soldier they have with them managed to explode it all in engineering----"accidentally", of course. We gave them enough dilithium to get back to that moon with all the dilithium. Oh, and they signed an agreement with us----an agreement to not interfere us or with our activities. So that means no more forced beaming of us onto your ship again, Charles. As soon as we're within beaming range, I'll beam down a copy of the agreement for you to read.// A pause, and then Psylocke added, //You might see one or two fewer FOH ships outside though.//

//Betsy, please don't. So many people have died already. The world doesn't need any more bloodshed.//

To that, Betsy did not respond. 

//Betsy// Charles began again, after a pause of a few moments. Communicating emotions via telepathy could be awkward. Betsy already had full purview of the contents of his mind, however, as he had of her mind. //I just wanted to let you know that I regret that our counseling sessions did not help you more.//

//Don't lose any sleep over it, Xavier. I've never felt better than I do now.//

And with that, Betsy threw up a telepathic shield and ended her side of the conversation.

Meanwhile, back on the bridge of the Vengeance, Marrow sat next to Psylocke and leaned forward when she saw that Psylocke was finished with her communications. "Well???" Marrow asked her. Marrow was attempting to mask her eagerness and doing a poor job of it, Betsy noted.

"Well, son of a bitch," Psylocke muttered, shaking her head. "Warren's got another girlfriend."

"What do you care?" Marrow asked.

"I don't," she shrugged. "I'm just curious is all. I don't miss him." Psylocke spoke the truth; she did not miss him. However, the two of them had been together for a long time and her curiosity could not help but to be piqued.

"What about the other X-men? Are they back yet?"

"No. Still not back yet." Psylocke smiled. On their way back to An'zhina, the Pirates had encountered an uninhabited planet with a copious supply of dilithium. She wondered what they might get from the X-men in exchange for the coordinates for this planet. "The group we rescued from FOH has arrived though," she added. 

"So Moonstar's not there then," Marrow stated dejectedly, obviously more interested in Dani Moonstar than in the fate of the nine women they had rescued from FOH.

"No, Marrow, she's not. Like I said, Freedom isn't back on An'zhina yet."

Marrow slumped back into her seat and sighed. Psylocke continued, "There are two FOH vessels here though. Cloaked vessels, patrolling Endarian space."

Marrow sat back up. Her heart really started pumping. She now had something to make up for the disappointment of not being able to see Dani again. "Well, then what the hell are we waiting for? Let's go spill some FOH blood!"

*****************

"You wanna go back to studyin' karate with me?"

Wolverine made me this offer one day during our journey back to An'zhina and I eagerly accepted. 

I really have to say, it was just what I needed. The mental discipline, the physical discipline, the concentration of the martial arts were perfect for getting my mind off of Jean-Paul's diagnosis. Years ago----not long after we first came to An'zhina, in fact----Wolverine set up lessons and trained Jubilee, Colossus and I in this. We kept it up for a while but somewhere along the way, we stopped training as a group. (Jubilee, I knew, kept on practicing on her own as I sometimes did.) That day, I was all too delighted to resume my training with Wolverine.

To be fair, Wolverine made the same offer to everyone over dinner. Jubilee said that she would also like to work with him again so she could move to the next level, and Dani Moonstar also asked to be included. So the four of us would work together for a few hours every day. Dani was at a beginner level, but the training Wolverine had given Jubes and I stayed with us; we were more advanced and able to help train Dani.

Storm would sometimes enter the gym as the four of us worked. I saw her out of the corner of my eye. (Just as Wolverine told me more than once, my focus and concentration needed to improve.) Storm would walk into the gym and lean against a wall as she gazed at us. Or rather, she gazed at Wolverine. He looked back at her too, with such a look of affection. You don't see that often from Wolverine but there it was. 

I did wonder why Wolverine made the offer to train us. Part of me speculated….did he know that I needed something like this to keep me from obsessing over Jean-Paul's condition? But when my mind headed that way, I thought that I was flattering myself and surely Wolverine's world did not revolve around my needs. 

But then, every now and then, I'd get an inkling that Wolverine was looking out for me and had my best interests in mind. After a session, we'd be packing our things into duffel bags and he'd come up beside me. "How you holdin' up?" he'd ask, with kindness in his voice, sounding like an older brother. (Well, bad analogy--- I had two older brothers and they were jerks---but you get the idea.) I was pretty sure he meant how was I holding up in general, not just with the karate training. And though I never would go on to pour my heart out to him, I appreciated that he asked. I think it was his way of showing he cared about me.

********************

Gambit sat on the bridge of Freedom, blankly watching the stars fly by. He checked and re-checked one of the monitors. They still had a ways to go before arriving to An'zhina. At this rate, at least six more full days. `Six more days till Gambit get to feel sand under his feet,' he mused, 'an' get to feel wind on my face. Bein' cooped up in dis starship startin' to drive me crazy.''

If only they could kick it back up to warp nine they would arrive at An'zhina in no time, but that was just not a feasible option. Once they made it to An'zhina, the starship would be left with very little dilithium. How exactly the X-men were to acquire more would be a bridge they would have to cross later. 

"I can't wait to get home," Rogue sighed, sitting beside Remy.

"Gambit be jus' t'inking the same t'ing." He smiled at the thought that their minds had been in the same place at the same moment. It wasn't the first time this had happened, either.

Rogue looked at him and caught the underlying consternation in his voice. "What is it, Remy?" she asked softly.

"I was t'inkin' also how far away my real home is," he admitted.

"You still think of Cajun country as your home, don't you?" Rogue asked. "And not An'zhina?"

'Yeah," Remy nodded. "I spent mos' of my life dere. I like An'zhina but I don't know if it can ever be home." He paused. "I miss excitement. I miss theater an' shows an' clubs. An' Mardi Gras. The fast pace on earth, whet'er it be in New Orleans or New York. I didn't like dat fast pace all the time but some of the time, it be wonderful."

"We don't get much of that sort of stuff on An'zhina," Rogue said. She remembered all the places she had Remy used to go, back on earth. Gambit loved a good night out, and they had indeed taken in many in New York----improv shows, plays, dance productions, fancy restaurants and bars, etc. 

"Yes," Remy said, passionately. "An' chere, don't get me wrong----I really love An'zhina. I love bein' able to get rest and to relax and lay on the beach all day long dere. It jus' dat it ain't New Orleans. An' the more I t'ink 'bout it, the more I know dat I wanna see New Orleans again before I die."

"You probably want to do more than see it?" Rogue said, making her sentence into a question. "You probably want to live there again some day, don't you?"

"I don't know if dat ever be possible. I at leas' wanna see it dough." He paused. "What do you t'ink, chere? I know dat you like An'zhina a lot. You ever miss earth?"

"Sometimes. You know, I miss the mansion and the life we had there. 'Cuz as hard as it was sometimes, it was great sometimes too."

He nodded. "All dose good memories. We met dere."

"I wouldn't mind seeing New York again in this lifetime," she said. "But I don't really wanna go back any farther than that in my life. No good memories." She stopped herself. "Well, except for some of the time with Mystique, 'cause she helped me so much. But she's dead and gone now." Rogue sighed. "I dunno, Remy. I love An'zhina. If we get old and die there, I wouldn't mind."

"I could live wit' dat," he agreed. "You an' me, gettin' all old and arthritic, watchin' our grandkids grow up." He stopped his reverie. "But chere, I t'ink I be happy wit' dat playin' out whether we be on An'zhina or in New York or New Orleans."

"As long as we're together, I guess it don't matter where we-------"

The doors to the bridge opened up and Bobby tentatively stepped forward. "Hi, guys," he said, standing in the doorway. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything. It's time for my shift."

"C'mon in, Bobby," Gambit said. 

Bobby entered the bridge and took a seat, feeling a stab of jealousy. Gambit was lucky that Rogue often sat with him during his bridge duty shift, Bobby thought. Northstar hardly ever did anything like that for him.

"How are you, sugar?" Rogue asked, looking at Bobby. Bobby was not one to mask his feelings and she could easily tell that he was not in one of his better moods. 

Bobby shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess," he mumbled, clearly not attempting to disguise the fact that he was anything but `okay.'

Rogue swiveled around in her seat so she could face him. "You wanna talk about it?"

He shrugged again, his eyes downcast. "I'm just having a bad day. Nothing in particular happened." He paused. "I've just been thinking about Jean-Paul getting sick." And, Bobby silently added, the dim prospects of someday having to watch him get sicker and sicker, of someday burying him, of trying to live without him. Last night he'd dreamt of the funeral, had seen himself trying to be stoic and comforting towards an hysterical Jeanne-Marie as they looked at Jean-Paul's gaunt corpse inside a casket. Jean-Paul's face had been sunken in, ghastly and the Iceman had woken up shivering. Was it just the results of all his fears, he wondered, or truly a preview of what was to come? 

Gambit looked at Bobby, appreciating his friend's openness. Bobby was good at confiding in his true friends and not holding back with them. `Unlike someone else,' Gambit thought, `who make you feel like you askin' for a pint a blood if you want her to tell you how she feelin'.' Putting thoughts of Storm to the side for the moment, he silently debated whether or not to voice an idea that had been simmering in his mind for a while. 

As Gambit struggled with that, Rogue went on to ask Bobby, "Did somethin' happen between you and Northstar?"

"No. He's fine. He's been acting like himself, lately. But I know he's hiding it, hiding the pain he's in. It's almost like he likes having his sister express all him emotions for him, while he just buries it all." Bobby sighed. "I can't bear the thought of this dragging out, of him just getting sicker and sicker and wasting away someday."

Gambit then turned towards Bobby. Rogue saw the glint in her husband's eye and knew where his mind was headed. She had a pretty solid idea of what he would suggest as the two of them had discussed it before. "Bobby," Gambit began, "you ever t'ink dat the Endarians must be able to cure dis?"

"Of course I've wondered it," Bobby said. "Their science is so advanced that I'm sure they can cure it. But what can we do to get them to help us? Queen Marina's made it pretty clear she's mad at us and isn't gonna to give us anything else. I doubt there's anything I can do to change her mind."

"Maybe. But dere might be somet'in' dat **Cyclops** can do," Gambit stated, his voice sounding as if a door were opening. Looking at the dark circles under Bobby's eyes, the raw pain trembling beneath those pupils, Gambit had made up his mind about presenting this option.

Bobby looked up, meeting Gambit's gaze. A few silent moments passed. "I'd forgotten about that," he said quietly. "I forgot all about that," he repeated, the wheels inside his mind now starting to spin. 

It had been quite some time ago now, during one of the X-men's missions back to earth. Gambit and Rogue had divulged a secret to Bobby, a secret that Rogue knew of due to her status as one of the team's field commanders. Queen Marina had repeatedly requested that Cyclops sleep with her. The X-men's co-leader had, of course, turned her down every time. But the offer had been made several times.

"I bet dat Marina's offer still stands," Gambit said. 

Rogue shot a warning look at Remy. The two had discussed this before and she hadn't been too sweet on the idea of Gambit bringing this up with Bobby. "But we don't know that, Remy," she said. Though she'd spoken her husband's name, she looked at Bobby. She and Remy had hashed over this argument before. "We can't get our hopes up too much. There's no guarantee that Marina can or would help us. We don't know that they got a cure for AIDS. And maybe Marina changed her mind and is over her….her crush on Scott."

"She **was** after Cyke for a very long time," Gambit said. "We got no reason to t'ink anyt'ing's different, chere. An' the Endarians have science and medical knowledge t'ousands of years ahead of earth's. Dey gave Northstar a replacement arm, an' he says it's so real dat he don't ever even t'ink 'bout it."

"You guys," Bobby began, "let's get real here. There's no way Cyke's ever gonna go for this, so why even bother to speculate?"

"People can be persuaded," Gambit said. "I mean, we talkin' 'bout savin' a life here! We talkin' 'bout lettin' a teammate **die** 'cause of Mr. Uptight." Gambit didn't bother to hide the passion in his voice and latent anger he felt towards Cyclops. Back on An'zhina, over a year ago, the young woman named Lu had died of AIDS. If Cyke had agreed to Marina's demands, the Endarians very possibly would have presented the X-men with a cure and Lu could have lived. Deep down, Gambit didn't know if he'd ever be able to forgive Cyclops for that, for allowing a young life to be snuffed out. 

Bobby shrugged. "It's his life, Gambit. It's his body." He paused and looked at Rogue. "How would you feel, Remy, if it was a male King who wanted Rogue to sleep with him in exchange for something?" He then added, "Sorry, Rogue, for talking about you as if you're not in the room."

"No problem," she said. She almost added---but bit her tongue in time---that she and Remy had in fact discussed that exact scenario.

Gambit looked at Rogue. "I would say what you jus' said. Is her body an' her life, an' her choice to make. But….but if someone else's life be on the line, I would encourage her dat maybe she should do it."

Rogue nodded. "And I would pretty much feel the same if Marina was after Remy. I wouldn't like it much----okay, I'd **hate** it----but if it meant savin' someone's life…." she let her voice trail off.

"Dat's jus' it," Gambit said. "We might be talkin' life an' death for Jean-Paul. Hell, if Cyke won't do it, I would offer myself to Queen Marina. But dat woman's never said two words to me. I don't t'ink she be interested."

Bobby felt bemused from detecting in Gambit's voice that the Cajun was just a little bit shocked, and possibly even offended, that there was a female in existence who apparently had an immunity to his charms. Bobby smiled wryly and spoke up, "If any one of the X-men's lives depended on it, then shit even **I** would sleep with Marina if she wanted." He then couldn't help but to add, "Though I was terrible with women and I don't think I ever made a woman come during any of my tries at heterosexuality. If she slept with me, she might decide afterwards not to give the cure away." Bobby paused then and looked at both Rogue and Gambit. "Okay, joking aside. You guys really think I should ask Scott to do this?"

"Yes," Gambit said, without hesitation. This time he did not look at Rogue, knowing she felt trepidation over this plan. "But you gotta be careful wit' how you do it. Gotta t'ink t'rough your approach, the time you go see Cyke and Jean an' what exactly you say."

Rogue and Gambit eventually exited the bridge, leaving Bobby to continue his shift. "Remy," Rogue began quietly as they walked down the hall towards the turbollift, "I just dunno whether you shouldda planted that idea in Bobby's head. Any of the three of us would go along with the Queen for the sake of saving another X-man, but I dunno if Cyclops is ever gonna change his mind. We are talkin' 'bout someone who sees the world in black and white."

Gambit shook his head. "If dat bastard don't go along wit' it and leaves Jean-Paul to die, I'll go beat the crap outta Scotty boy."

**************

Inside the infirmary, Panda and Hector worked side by side, inventorying and stocking supplies.

"I can't wait to get back to An'zhina," Hector said.

"Same here," Panda replied. Though she was loathe to admit it, some of the other X-men were starting to get on her nerves. It just had to do with living in such close quarters. Once they reached the expansiveness of An'zhina, she trusted that things would get better. "I love it there," she added, so as to not seem brusque.

"How's Hank's research going?" he asked, and then regretted it. Surely if there had been any recent breakthroughs, Panda would have shared it with him.

"The same," she said. "He's not been able to make any headway. I hope that once we get back to An'zhina, he and Moira can team up and put their heads together." 'And,' she silently added, 'Hank can take a break.' Perhaps once he knew someone else was working on it, he would allow himself some time off. Panda's husband scarcely left the lab. She brought all his meals to him. On a typical day, Panda was already snoring by the time Hank got to bed, and by the time Panda woke in the mornings, Hank was already ensconced in the lab. They had made love only once since Northstar's diagnosis, after Panda had pleaded numerous times. Though physically satisfying, it had been a much briefer bout than she would have liked. 

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then Hector asked, "Hey, Panda, do you think Jubilee wants a boyfriend?" He then quickly clarified, "I'm not talking about me. I mean, do you think she might go out with Sam?"

"I don't know," Panda said. "But I'm willing to bet she'd give it a try. I think she does want someone, to be someone's girlfriend."

"Has she said anything about Sam? Like, does she like him?"

Panda tilted her head back and tried to remember. She really couldn't recall Jubilee ever mentioning a desire to go out with Cannonball. But then again, Panda couldn't recall discussing Jubilee's dating situation (or lack of) anytime recently. But she did know that Jubilee **had** said, more than once, that she wanted a relationship, wanted a soulmate. "I can't remember. I really can't. But Hector, I bet she'd go out with him. Why do you ask? You think Sam might be interested in her?"

"I think so. I'd bet anything that he'd go out with her. I'm not trying to play matchmaker, but I think they should at least try it. But Sam is _muy _shy."

"So you think she should approach him?"

"I think she should. I'm sure he'd say yes."

Panda smiled, knowing that Sam and Hector were friends. Hector sounded just a tad too rehearsed. "I don't know if Jubilee's ever asked anyone out. It can be scary to do the asking. But I'll mention it to her sometime," Panda said. Jubilee's lovelife was not first and foremost on her mind, but she decided she would try to remember if she happened to have a moment with her.

"That would be _muy bueno_." 

******************

Much celebration took place on An'zhina the day that Professor Xavier announced he had contacted Jean Grey telepathically. Jean's parents, sister, niece and nephew were ecstatic. "They should be landing here within five or six days," Xavier said. "All of the X-men are on board the ship, safe and sound." Charles said those words, though he knew it was not exactly true for one of the X-men.

"Oh, thank goodness," Elaine Grey breathed. "And my grandchildren are safe and sound, I presume?"

"Yes."

"Do they have any camp survivors with them?" Moira asked. 

"No. Unfortunately, no. Jean told me that they will fill us in on the details on their mission once they land. She gave me a quick overview." The Professor then recounted for the group the events that Jean had shared with him----the FOH's plan of unleashing a virus to destroy all mutants, Jean using her powers to halt them, the accident in engineering which resulted in the loss of their dilithium supply, the negotiations with Marrow and Psylocke, and the trip to first the moon and then later the inhabited planet in order to obtain more dilithium. 

When the crowd disbursed, Charles subtly pulled Moira aside. "What is it, Charles?" she asked.

"There is one other thing that Jean told me," he said, his voice conveying a quiet sort of urgency. "One of the X-men, Northstar, has been diagnosed with HIV."

Moira gasped at the news. Recovering quickly, she said, "I am sorry to hear that."

"Jean said that Hank has been working day and night on a cure for this disease. When that Chinese woman, Lu, was sick, you also performed extensive research on AIDS."

"Yes. I will resume my research right away. And as soon as Freedom lands here, Hank and I can work together." Moira regretted that she had ceased her research shortly after Lu had passed away. 

Charles nodded gravely. "Thank you, Moira."

***************

It was not a conversation that I looked forward to having. Not at all. But what Gambit said made sense. There was absolutely no guarantee that Hank would find a cure in time----he might never find one. These were desperate times, and so I was ready to swallow my pride and make a desperate request. 

From my years of observing Scott Summers, I knew he was more of a morning person. Though he could turn up the energy whenever it was really needed, I did know that he preferred to do his Danger Room sessions in the morning and when he played with the kids, he seemed to have way more pep earlier in the day. You could observe him declining as the day went on….not so much so during my early years with the X-men, but this was becoming more apparent in the past few years. So I checked the bridge duty schedule, found a morning when neither Scott nor Jean had bridge duty, and then called them on their communicator, asking if the three of us could meet.

"We're with the kids in the mess hall," Scott said. "Can we meet here?"

"I was really hoping that we could talk in private," I said. 

A pause on the other end, and I heard Scott and Jean talking but the communicator didn't pick up their words. "Okay. We can ask Dani or Kurt to look after the kids. Is this going to take long?"

"No, I don't think so," I answered. 

I heard more muffled talking outside of the range of the communicator, and then Scott said, "We'll meet you outside our quarters in five minutes."

I had one thing going for me, at the very least. Since Freedom was now within telepathic range of An'zhina, Jean had been "talking" with her family back there, in communication with her parents, sister, and niece and nephew. She had been in an extremely good mood, and Scott often mirrored her moods as well.

The butterflies swarmed around my stomach as I stood outside the door to the Summers' room, waiting for them to arrive from the mess hall. My state of nervousness at this point was comparable to the last time the X-men had beamed down to an FOH camp during a mission. I took a few deep breaths. Didn't help.

I heard footsteps and tried to prepare myself, but it was just Shaman walking down the hall to his room. We exchanged a quick hello. Moments later, Scott and Jean were there. The three of us said our hellos and then entered the room.

"Have a seat," Jean offered, gesturing to the comfortable sitting chair. She then sat on the edge of the bed and Scott on the chair next to the desk. We made a semi-circle.

"So, what's on your mind?" Jean asked. I wondered if she knew. She certainly had the power to probe my thoughts, though I knew that she and Professor X would never enter without a good reason. Still, I wondered at the temptation she must face. I knew I'd be a terrible telepath. I'd want to know what others were thinking. Then I realized that my mind was rambling----anything, perhaps, to avoid thinking of what I had to face now.

"Is something the matter, Bobby?" Scott asked.

"No," I said, a little too quickly. "No. I---uh---I wanted to ask you something." My heart beat so fast I was sure it could be heard throughout the small room. My mind raced at an equal speed. This was a terrible idea. What was I thinking? What unmitigated gall of me! I gulped. Too late to chicken out now though I could feel my cheeks burning. "You see, you both know that Jean-Paul is very sick, I---well, I mean he's not really sick now but he does have HIV, and if he doesn't get cured of it, he is going to die. Eventually."

Jean looked at me steadily and nodded. The look on her face momentarily took my breath away. I saw genuine compassion, genuine caring. It helped relax me a bit. But sensing that Scott would be another matter, I tried to avoid looking in the direction of those shades of his. 

"I hope and pray that Hank and Moira will find a cure," Scott said steadily.

"Is there anything we can do to support you?" Jean asked. 

"Well…yeah, there was one thing I wanted to ask you. Do you…do you have any sort of pull or leverage with Queen Marina? I'm sure the Endarians could cure Jean-Paul if we asked. So I was wondering if either of you had any influence over her or if there was something you could do to maybe get her to help save Jean-Paul's life." 

I glanced from Jean to Scott. I wasn't sure but I thought perhaps Jean knew exactly what I was truly proposing. I couldn't tell about Cyke; those sunglasses hid so much.

"Marina has repeatedly refused any requests for help that we've made," Scott said. "Ever since she lent us the Valiant and later fixed Northstar's arm, she's refused to give us anything more."

If Scott knew what I really was asking, he sure wasn't going to make it easy on me. Well, then, why should he? What I was doing took a lot of nerve. I tried to chase that thought out of my mind and reassure myself. No, my request wasn't full of gall. We're talking life or death for Northstar here.

"But, do either of you have any sort of extra influence with her? Any extra way to persuade her?" I looked from my hands, which were folded into my lap, back up to Jean. I couldn't look at Scott. I still felt my cheeks hot. "What I'm trying to say is….there are rumors that maybe you do."

"Really?" Scott asked, and I saw his eyebrows raise above the level of his sunglasses. I think I don't need to mention he did not sound pleased. "What sort of rumors?"

I noticeably gulped. "Um…there are some rumors that Marina has made some requests of you….uh, particularly of you, Scott." 

My face burned. I glanced at Scott and saw redness on his cheeks as well. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"You mean the request that Marina made to sleep with Scott," Jean said. Her words were steady and even, and not harsh. At her husband turning to look at her, she said to him, "He obviously knows already, Slim."

"How the hell did you know about this?" Scott asked.

I looked down at my hands again. "I'm sorry. Rogue told me." 

Scott shook his head. "How dare she! That information was presented at a meeting of the field commanders and I specifically instructed that it be kept a secret. I am going to have a talk with her. I wonder whether she is truly cut out to be a field commander." 

I hadn't thought of this outcome and neither Gambit nor Rogue had mentioned it during our discussion, but I had really placed Rogue in an awkward place now. Maybe I should have lied about how I heard about Marina's request, but it was too late now. I tried to put any thoughts of bad ramifications for Rogue out of my mind. Rogue had a sterling reputation and surely this incident alone could not ruin her future with the X-men. 

"Look," I began awkwardly, "I'm not trying to justify it at all….but people do talk. People do gossip. All of us during our time with the X-men have surely had our personal lives speculated on by the others, as much as we say we don't do it." Then I tried to turn it back around to the purpose of this hellish meeting. "And I honestly ask your pardon in bringing this matter up, but please remember the reason I am doing it. Jean-Paul's life is at stake." I paused, looking at Jean's eyes and then at Scott's glasses. I fought to keep my voice steady but it did crack once when I said, "In all likelihood, he's going to die if he doesn't get a cure. He's going to die," I repeated. "But the Endarians could help him."

Scott's arms were still crossed over his chest. "Irregardless of that…" he broke off, almost as if trying to compose himself, "you got a damn lot of nerve, Drake. A damn lot." Scott practically fumed. And he hadn't called me "Drake" since my early days with the X-men when I made mistakes right and left. 

I found my voice and quietly said, "I know. But Scott," I said, looking directly at him, "if our positions were reversed, I wouldn't hesitate to do whatever I needed to, to save your wife." I then looked at Jean. "You know that I'm telling the truth."

Jean closed her eyes and gave a barely perceptible nod. She touched a hand to Scott's arm and spoke in a voice that was soft and soothing, "Scott, maybe you and I should talk about this situation alone for a bit."

I wondered if she may have telepathically communicated something else to him too. There was silence for a few moments and Scott had a few looks on his face that I couldn't quite interpret. 

"Okay," he said, finally. He looked in my direction and then in the direction of the door.

"Bobby, let's talk later," Jean said. As during our entire conversation, I found nothing but tenderness and compassion in her voice.

I rose from the chair, muttered an awkward 'thank you', and left the room.

****************

Scott and Jean turned to look at each other. "I'm so angry now that I can't talk about this," Scott stated. "I need to go to the Danger Room." 

Jean nodded. "Tell me when you feel ready to discuss this. I'm going back to the mess hall to be with the kids." 

"Okay." He turned towards the door and then stopped himself. He reached back for Jean and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth before departing.

**************

TO BE CONTINUED

What do you think? What would you do if you were Scott---or Jean? Please email stormkpr@usa.net or post a review on fanfiction.net


	5. Chapter 5

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER FIVE

**************

Jean was glad that Cyclops chose to go to the Danger Room. Jean had suggested to him, many years ago, that when he felt angry at a fellow X-man, his first course of action should be to find a way to blown off some steam. Jean's advice was followed often by the time that Wolverine, and later Gambit, joined the X-men.

Two hours later, Scott returned to the mess hall where Jean tended to the children. Again leaving Charlotte and Christopher in the care of other X-men, the couple made their way to their room.

"I'm still mad at him," Scott said.

"But you seem like you have calmed down some," Jean observed.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Slim. Take a deep breath."

"I already did. I've taken many deep breaths in the past couple of hours."

"Take one more for me now, my love."

"Okay." He did as she requested. 

"Now then," Jean said, a small smile on her face, as Scott exhaled, "do you remember what it was that I recommended you do whenever you find yourself mad at another X-man? I mean, after a stint in the Danger Room."

"Yeah, I remember," Scott replied. He truly enjoyed the kind of gentle advising that Jean was doing for him now, and had done for him many times. She and Xavier were his sanity, he oftentimes felt. "I should try to first empathize with their situation."

Jean nodded. "Do you think you can do this now? Try to understand where Bobby's coming from?"

Scott slowly nodded. "I can try. Bobby is feeling desperate because Northstar has a terminal illness." Somehow saying the words did help clarify things in his mind, at least a smidgen. Scott was still outraged at the gall of Bobby's request, but he did understand what it was like to love someone. But what was that love compared to what Scott himself had with Jean?

"That is true," Jean replied, her voice still mild and soothing. "And can you understand what Northstar means to Bobby? Who he is in Bobby's life?" Before her mutant powers had developed, Jean had entertained notions of obtaining a college degree in Psychology and becoming a counselor. She'd always wished that more X-men would come to her when they were troubled.

"He's his…." Scott faltered a bit. "I don't know. Someone he loves."

Jean nodded. "That's right. Someone he loves, like the way you feel for me."

Scott crossed his arms over his chest and stated his opinion flatly and plainly. "It is not the same."

In the space of an instant, Jean lost it. She slammed her hand down on the desk and yelled, "Bullshit, Summers!!"

The room seemed to echo with the sound of Jean's hand hitting the desk and the roar of her voice. Scott was so astounded that he gasped. He had no recollection of Jean ever yelling at him, nor had he ever seen such anger ---directed at him!---blazing in her eyes. Stunned, he slowly sank down, sitting on the side of the bed. For a split second, he had the urge to cry, but it passed. He didn't look at Jean, not wanting to face the rage on her face. He now had absolutely no idea how to reply to her, having never seen this behavior from his wife.

Jean then took a deep breath. She spoke firmly and without the gentleness he was so used to and adored from her. "Bobby and Northstar love each other. Even though it makes you uncomfortable, you have to accept that their relationship is basically equal in value to any other married couple here."

Scott turned away, unable to face her. After a few moments of silence, he said, "We already talked about this. I don't agree with what you are saying."

Jean then allowed a few moments to pass as she reigned in her anger. This was not the time to debate this point with Scott; instead, it was time to look for some consensus. "Alright," she said. "As we did before, we will agree to disagree on this. But can we both agree that Northstar is someone who Bobby loves very much?"

"Okay," Scott said, without hesitation.

"Good." That was enough, Jean supposed. She paused, looking for the next place to take this and wishing that it were Xavier, instead of herself, having this discussion with Scott. "How do you feel about the request that Bobby made of you?"

"The same way as before. I think it was outrageous. And I…." Suddenly, he stopped himself. His indignation since Bobby's visit had clouded his ability to tap into his mindlink with Jean. The link was now gradually returning, and he crashed into a realization. "Jean….you are actually considering that we should do what Bobby asks, aren't you?" he asked, breathless and stunned. "You are considering it," he repeated.

"Yes," she said. "I am considering it."

"I can't believe this." He looked up at the ceiling, as if in supplication to divine powers. "Please tell me that today is a bad dream. Just a nightmare and tomorrow none of this will have happened."

Jean gently touched a hand to Scott's shoulder and said, with a note of reassurance in her voice, "Scott, for a man who has battled the likes of Apocalypse, Sinister, and the Juggernaut, what we are going through now can hardly be called the worst we have ever faced together."

"Our relationship is the most important thing in my entire life. That, and the children, of course. The battles with all the enemies the X-men had over the years were **nothing** compared to hearing this!" It was astounding, the very notion that Jean might support this. "Goddamn Bobby Drake," he added, vehemently.

Jean started to say something, but then Scott spoke again. "How do we know how Northstar got HIV, anyway? He says it's from FOH, but how do we know it's not from engaging in promiscuity like a lot of gays do?"

"Does it really matter how he got it?" Jean asked.

"Yes."

Jean took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter to me. What matters to me is that his life is at stake. If Hank or Moira do not come up with a cure, Northstar will eventually die. It might happen soon or it might happen in several years, but he will die."

There was more silence. "I am so mad at Bobby right now, for making us argue like this," Scott said.

"Our relationship is strong. We can survive an argument. We can even grow from it and eventually become closer."

"And what will happen to our relationship if I….if I go along with this crazy idea?"

"Our relationship could survive that, too. I am confident that we can get through anything together."

The looked at each other. Scott sighed and rubbed his temples. "I don't think I can discuss this anymore right now."

That was unusual for Scott as he was a man who preferred closure. "I have a suggestion, then. Will you at least think about it some more and we can discuss it later?" Jean asked.

Scott's mind whirled. "Okay," he finally said. "C'mon. We should get back to the kids."

****************

"Xavier, I demand that you put a stop to these senseless executions taking place right outside of Endarian space! The populace is getting worried and I cannot afford to allow millions of xenophobes to panic."

Queen Marina made her demands to Charles Xavier via a videolink. The monarch never flew to An'zhina when she wanted to talk with the X-men, and therefore they were quite familiar with the one-dimensional view of her face looking back at them over the monitor.

"I tried to convince Psylocke not to do it," the Professor stated calmly. "Although I no longer have any authority over her, I will speak with her again." 

"Your talks with her have produced no good. That woman used her powers to seize control of the captain of one of the Friends of Humanity starships, and to blow up both the vessels. I have no great love for the Friends of Humanity myself, but I did not want hundreds of men to die either." Marina did not bother to mask the disapproval in her voice. The citizens of Endaria, by and large, had no problem with the X-men inhabiting one of An'zhina's moons. However they did not like the fact that a former X-man used her powers to cause the death of hundreds. The Endarians were a peaceful people who had no notion of a death penalty, even for the few criminals in their society.

"I will speak with Psylocke again. Do you have any other suggestions?" the Professor asked. Psylocke had used a telepathic shield to hide not only the killing of the FOH soldiers from Xavier but also the fact that her group tortured them for a few hours beforehand. Had Xavier been aware of their intent and had he tried, he probably could have penetrated that shield. He knew that he would be haunted by guilt over this.

"No," Marina answered, "but I will let you know now that if Psylocke does anything like that again in Endarian space, I will use our technology to propel her ship all the way back to earth! And you can take that message to her."

"I will."

With that, the Queen then abruptly ended their conversation. 

Xavier decided to let some time pass before contacting Betsy again. The X-men's starship, Freedom, was still roughly four days from An'zhina. Perhaps Jean might have better luck convincing Psylocke, Charles speculated, as every method he himself had deployed to get through to her had failed. 

As the day wore on though, with the mutants on An'zhina making preparations for a homecoming party for the X-men, Charles noticed something odd. A quick telepathic check indicated that Psylocke and Marrow's vessel was holding its position. Why would they remain in Endarian space now that their mission of killing FOH soldiers was completed? What other business did they have there? Charles could have invaded their minds to find the answer but he still detested the idea of entering anyone's mind without consent. He would wait for Jean's attempt at communicating with Betsy and see whether his first student had better luck.

***************

"How did your training session today go?" I asked Jean-Paul. We were in my quarters, getting ready for bed. 

"Okay," he said, though the word was muffled because he was brushing his teeth. He then spat into the sink and rinsed. "Jubilee and I were up against the level 7 Apocalypse program but we got our _dierriers _kicked."

"The level 7 Apocalypse? Wow---you two are brave. I doubt that the entire team of X-men working together could've won against that level." I paused as I folded my uniform and placed it inside the drawer. Although Jean-Paul and I maintained separate rooms, I was always finding various personal belongings of his inside "my" room, and I liked it. I placed my uniform next to a rusty-red colored sweater of Jean-Paul's.

Jean-Paul stepped from the small bathroom to the main room as he flossed his teeth. 

"Does anyone treat you differently now?" I asked.

"Where did that come from?" he asked, sounded a bit off-put by the question. I did have to admit that it came from left field.

I shrugged. "I was just wondering. I thought of it when I thought of you training in the Danger Room…I dunno. I was just thinking like if you ever got injured and whether anyone would freak out if you started to bleed."

It was his turn to shrug. "I do not really notice anyone treating me differently, and I would not care if they started to. You know, Bobby I know that you worry quite a bit about what others think of you, but me --- I decided at a very young age that I cannot live my life agonizing over people's opinions of me. If I did that, I would have gone crazy a long time ago. I do not care if anyone's bothered by the fact that I have HIV. That is their problem, not mine."

His words so sounded so well-rehearsed and I imagine that he had said them several times before. "Do you really feel that way?" I asked quietly. "I mean, deep down?" I asked this because really wanted to know. Jean-Paul occasionally displayed bravado (much less bravado, I am told, then he displayed when he was younger) and I often wondered how much of it was really him. And you see, I didn't quite believe that what he said was completely true. I remembered our encounters on An'zhina with a young homophobe named Todd. If Jean-Paul really didn't worry about what others thought, wouldn't he have reacted a little less strongly to Todd?

He looked into my eyes intently and for a split second, I thought he was really going to open up to me and I would get a glimpse of the workings of his mind. But instead he only cocked a half-smile, and reached to rumple my hair. "My beloved Bobby. Always wanting to figure everything out." I smiled at his words as my heart fell. Maybe parts of him would always be hidden to me. Sometimes that man was a total stranger.

He then changed the subject, sat down next to me on the bed, and we spoke about other things for a few minutes. We talked about little Rory's latest antics, about what we would do when we got to An'zhina, and we speculated as to what our favorite foe Todd was up to.

Suddenly, his eyes were studying me intently and I knew I had tears welling up inside mine. We stopped our chatter and my lips trembled. He gently brought a hand to my face and wiped the tear that had dropped from an eye. 

"I know what you're thinking," he murmured.

"Do you?" I asked softly. I tried to gulp back more tears but was unsuccessful. 

"It's okay," he said, bringing an arm around to caress my back. "You have been so strong and so supportive of me during this whole ordeal. And things aren't going to get better anytime soon. I know you feel the burden of everything you're bearing."

When he said those words, my heart lifted right back up. Maybe the two of us did have real intimacy if he realized this. He knew exactly what I had been thinking. I swallowed my tears and said, "I want to be strong for you, so that you can lean on me when you get down. And now I'm the one who's getting all emotional," I said, with that last sentence coming out with a sob despite my best efforts to stifle it. A few tears slipped out. 

His free hand reached for one of mine and squeezed. "We are in for a long ordeal. I am sure that we each will take turns having good days and bad ones. Who knows how long I will be sick or if Hank shall ever find a cure? We are going to have to take each day as it comes, amour."

I nodded against him and let myself be enveloped by the warmth of his embrace. I rested my head on one of his strong shoulders. For a second, I wanted to tell him about the request I'd made of Scott and Jean earlier that day, of the small glimmer of hope this presented, but I held my tongue. Scott was sure to turn it down so why raise Jean-Paul's hopes? This portion I did need to continue to bear alone. 

But there was one thing that I wanted to, and could, share. I got a hold of my tears and succeeded in gulping them back. "When I was growing up," I began, "I hated the fact that I was gay. I would've done anything to change it. I used to pray to God to `cure' me. I thought about suicide all the time. But Jean-Paul, I'm so glad that you're in my life and that I have the honor of being yours. I wouldn't change they way I am, not now -- not for anything in the galaxy."

*****************

The next morning, Jean Grey communicated telepathically with the Professor. The events of the previous day had occupied her mind and she fought to brush them to the side. //I will tell the other X-men what Psylocke and Marrow did.// Jean said. //They should be given a heads-up in case there are any ramifications, from the Endarians.//

//As well as in case the Pirates strike again.// the Professor added, using the appellation that Marrow and Psylocke had chosen for their group. //I sense no FOH ships in this area now, but they might send others to investigate….or to attack.//

//The fortunate thing is that Freedom is cloaked and that FOH doesn't stand a chance against the Endarians's defenses. But you're right that we must be vigilant. I will try to reach Betsy. I don't know if my luck will be any better than yours, but as you said, it's worth a try.//

***************

Jean's communication to the Professor had been overly optimistic. Psylocke telepathically responded to Jean, telling her only that she did not wish to be disturbed and reminding her that the X-men signed a non-interference agreement with the Pirates. Jean had no choice but to obey Psylocke's wish to be left alone.

Jean hoped that she might have better luck talking with her husband about a more pressing matter, the one which had been weighing so heavily on both of their shoulders since their meeting with Bobby the day before. When she had a moment alone, Jean sat quietly and prayed for guidance. She discussed their situation with no one, but she ruminated over it constantly.

It was not that Jean looked forward to the idea of her husband spending a night with another woman. The thought made her skin crawl and part of her still questioned whether this idea bordered on insanity. But the more she thought of it and placed herself in Bobby and Northstar's shoes, the more she tried to exercise compassion, the closer she came to deciding what they needed to do. 

Of course the ultimate decision was up to Scott.

Jean decided to refrain from using her mindlink with Scott to test the waters and find out where he stood and whether his opinion had changed. The time for that was not right.

During lunch in the mess hall, Scott met Jean's look and said quietly, "Let's discuss it in our room tonight, after your bridge shift." Jean nodded. 

By the time they put the kids down for the night, and both Charlotte and Christopher were sleeping peacefully, it had been about a day and a half since their awkward meeting with Bobby Drake the previous morning. Jean and Scott sat on the edge of the bed and faced each other. After a few moments of silence, they both laughed. "I can't believe we're having trouble thinking what to say to each other," Scott said. Incredulous as he was, he was still smiling.

"I know," Jean said, also smiling. "First time for everything, I guess."

"Well, why don't you go first," Scott suggested. "This is a decision we need to make together." He paused. "What would you do?"

"I've been thinking about it constantly," Jean said, knowing that the same was true of Scott. "And the more I think of it, I think it comes down to this. If our positions were reversed, I would ask Bobby and Northstar to do the same thing." She spoke calmly and evenly. "I think we need to do whatever it takes to save a teammate's life. Now this doesn't mean that I like it. You know that I don't like one bit. But we are talking a matter of life and death here."

Scott nodded, not looking at Jean. "I sensed that was how you felt," he said.

"You still don't think we should go along with it," Jean said, surmising as much from his tone of voice.

Scott began to speak slowly, "I understand that an X-man's life is at stake, but I just can't see myself going through with this." He paused and turned towards Jean. "But then I asked myself, many times, whether I would be able to live with myself if Northstar were to die. And I don't think that I could." He paused again. "Then I got to thinking whether there might be another way out of this."

"Another way?" Jean asked.

"Yes. I think I may've found one. Jean, think of it this way. Northstar's not sick now. He has the virus but he's not sick. What if we were to….give it some time? See how he holds up and whether Hank and Moira come up with a cure. If they don't and if he starts getting bad, then maybe we should consider talking to Marina. But why do it now, when he's basically healthy?"

Jean listened to her husband's idea and tossed it around. Could it work, what were the potential problems? "Hmmmmm…..I think it's a good idea," Jean began slowly, the wheels of her mind still turning. "The only thing that concerns me is….is instability. What if our situations change? What if, for example, the X-men are forced to some day leave Endaria? Or if we go on a mission and somehow get stuck somewhere for a long time, as we were in the Paradise Planet? Or what if Queen Marina drops dead tomorrow? We've lived through a lot of upheaval in our lifetimes and no future is certain."

Scott nodded. "That is a good point. We can't assume that we'll even have this home on An'zhina forever or that we'll always be within reach of Queen Marina to ask for her help."

"For all we know --- and considering how angry she now is over the ships that Betsy just blew up---- she might throw us all out of An'zhina some day. If that happened, Northstar would be a goner."

"Unless Hank or Moira somehow found a cure," Scott added. "But I see your point." He shook his head. "We've had practically nothing but turmoil in our lives. I thought the mansion would last forever, our days living and working there, defending mankind. It didn't work that way. The Queen told us that we'll have An'zhina forever too but…"

"But we've learned that we can't really count on `forever,'" Jean glumly finished for him. As much as she knew it was quite possible, the thought of someday having to leave An'zhina gave her chills. Ever since her parents and the rest of her biological family had come to An'zhina, the distant moon felt more and more like home. "And I think that's the attitude that Bobby's coming from. He knows things aren't permanent either. The safest thing to do is get the virus out of Northstar while we have access to someone who can do that." She said the last sentence with emphasis and finality.

"We can't count on Hank and Moira finding a cure, either," Scott realized glumly. "They're both very brilliant, but earth's best scientists tried for decades to wipe out this disease and haven't succeeded either."

"And besides," Jean began, "coming up with a cure is not quite like….like building a play set or fixing a broken engine. I'm no scientist but I gather that the process would involve lots of different tests and trials, treating Northstar with different drugs and seeing how he reacts. Even if Hank and Moira make some headway, the process of using drugs on Northstar and seeing how he reacts could be agonizing. He would be made into a guinea pig and it might all end up being for nothing. It might make things worse." She then reached for Scott's hand and held it. "I do like your idea of waiting and hoping, Scott. It makes sense, given that Northstar could be just fine and without any symptoms for years…but this plan of waiting does rely on a lot of `if's' and a lot more stability than we've ever seen in our lifetimes." 

"And if something did happen to him because we waited….it's back to square one." He paused and sighed. "I don't know if I would be able to look myself in the mirror. Or if I would ever be able to look at Bobby again." Scott then turned to Jean and looked into her brilliant eyes. "But Jean, how could I look at **myself** in the mirror if I'm unfaithful to you? Part of me thinks I'm insane for even considering this. We swore vows to be true to each other."

"Yes, we did. But this is different than someone having an affair behind their spouse's back. You know that, Scott. Rules aren't absolute---especially not in a case like this, where someone's life is at stake."

Scott slowly nodded. "I guess a matter of life and death like this does supercede the vows we made." His words came out with a sigh, and Jean knew—without having to use their mindlink—that her husband had made up his mind. 

There was silence in the room for a few moments. "Are you really okay with this?" Jean asked quietly.

"No. I don't think I can ever be 'okay' with this and I know you feel the same way. But I think we have no choice. And I keep remembering what you said. Our relationship is strong. It's been the most steady, most solid part of my life. It can survive this." Scott paused and then surprised Jean by reverting to lightheartedness. "When we get back to An'zhina, I'll ask Queen Marina. For all we know, she's no longer interested in me. Maybe she'll refuse it." Scott would have been only slightly embarrassed if Jean knew that deep down he hoped this was the case. Upon second thought, he realized that she probably **did** sense that.

"Or maybe she'll tell us that her scientists have no cure for HIV," she added. Jean doubted this, though. From what they had seen, the Endarians could do almost anything.

Minutes later, the lights were turned down and Scott and Jean settled in beneath the blankets. "I'll tell Bobby tomorrow morning," Jean said.

"He and Northstar are going to owe us for the rest of their lives," Scott muttered. A weary Jean was somewhat surprised to detect that Scott wasn't really kidding about Bobby and Northstar being in debited forever.

***************

Rogue and Gambit were sleeping in one morning, as they generally liked to do when neither of them had an early bridge duty shift. (And they tended to work with their teammates to ensure that they avoided the dreaded early-morning shifts.) Although half awake, the two languidly remained in bed with their arms around each other. 

"If we were in Bayou country, chere, an' Gambit had all his money, we be livin' in our own mansion and we have a servant bring us coffee and sweet rolls and the paper," Gambit mumbled.

"Keep dreamin', Swamp Rat," Rogue smiled. "On board this damn freezin' ship, if we want any news, we gotta haul our asses to one of the computers and read it from there. And I don't think anyone's gonna bring us sweet rolls and coffee in bed. Though I bet if we asked him to, Bobby would. He's such a sweetie-pie."

"Remember the time he bring us dinner in dis room? For dat time we decide to have 'a date' on the ship?"

"Gotta love our Bobby," Rogue said, with undisguised and quite sincere affection in her voice. 

Moments later, Rogue excused herself and headed for the washroom. Sure enough, those slight pains in her bowels had been what she knew them to be---a sign that her period was soon to start. The stain on her underwear now confirmed it. Rogue sighed as she unwrapped a tampon.

  
"What's wrong, chere?" Gambit asked when his wife had rejoined him in their bed.

She sighed and told him. "Looks like I ain't pregnant."

"Chere," Gambit chuckled, "we only jus' start tryin'. Dis could take weeks or months." He tenderly cupped her face. "It maybe even take a few years. We gotta be patient wit' dis 'cause dere ain't nothin' we can do to hurry Mot'er Nature along."

"I know. An' I guess you don't need to hear me bitchin' once a month till however long it takes. I'll try to be patient." She then smiled seeing the look on his face. "Yeah, Swamp Rat, I know…patience ain't one of my virtues!" 

"Actually, I was smilin' 'cause I'm used to you gettin' testy once a month anyway."

Rogue playfully bopped him with a pillow. The couple giggled together as the chime to their door sounded. 

"Who's dere?" Gambit asked, using the intercom that allowed them to communicate with someone standing in the hall.

"It's Bobby. Can I come in?"

Gambit and Rogue looked at each other. Bobby usually did not pay social calls in the middle of the morning. "Hang on a minute," Gambit said. He slipped out of bed and donned a pair of sweatpants. Rogue threw a robe on to cover the over-sized T-shirt and panties she wore.

"C'mon in," Rogue then said.

Bobby entered the room. Rogue asked, "Is anything wrong?" though the look on his face seemed to indicate that all was more than well.

"Oh, I---uh, sorry for bothering you so…um, early." Bobby looked at his timepiece. "Though we're only a like an hour and a half from lunchtime."

Gambit shrugged. "Is no secret. We like to sleep late." He eyed Bobby's appearance and took in the look on his friend's face. "You look happy. What's goin' on?"

"Oh, I just wanted to thank you guys. You'll never guess what happened this morning! During breakfast, Jean Grey pulls me aside. She tells me that Scott is going to….going to go along with the idea we talked about. He's going to ask Queen Marina for a cure for Northstar!"

"Really?" Rogue asked, her eyes wide. She shot a quick glance over at husband. She had to hand it to Remy. Rogue had bet him that Scott would never in a million years go along with this scheme. "You mean that he's actually gonna offer to sleep with her in exchange for the cure??"

"Yes! I know, I can't believe it either. I made Jean repeat it to me because I couldn't believe my ears. But isn't this amazing?? If Marina agrees to it and if they have a cure for AIDS---or can make one---then Jean-Paul really might be okay!"

Rogue and Gambit both rose from the bed and hugged their elated friend. "Dat's wonderful. Ole' One-Eye actually comin' drough for his team," Gambit said. 

"I'm trying to keep my hopes from getting out of control," Bobby said. "I mean, like I said, it's still not a done deal here. But it does look very good."

"Bobby, we're so happy for you and Jean-Paul. And for ourselves," Rogue said. "Does Jean-Paul know?"

"No. He was in the Danger Room when Jean told me. I gotta go tell him. But I wanted to share it with you first since you gave me the idea." He paused. "Oh, uh, speaking of that….Jean asked that for now, we keep this very low-key and not tell anyone. If everything works out and Jean-Paul does get cured, obviously then we'll have to tell people something. But she asked that for now, I tell no one except Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie. But I had to tell you guys though, since you were the ones who gave me the idea for it."

Gambit nodded. Keeping this hush-hush would indeed be a struggle, especially if the plan was successful and Northstar was cured. And both Jeanne-Marie and Bobby were known to have somewhat loose lips when it came to gossip. 

Bobby thanked the couple again and then bounded out of the room.

***************

I headed for the Danger Room next. I had kept this a secret from Jean-Paul because I had no idea whether Cyclops would actually agree to go along with this. But now that he had agreed and I had official permission to tell Jean-Paul, I could hardly wait to share. All this mental anguish over the past few weeks may have been for nothing----if a lot of "ifs" worked out okay. And imagine how thrilled Jeanne-Marie would be too!

When I entered the gym, Jean-Paul was just finishing up a session. I handed him a towel. "Bon jour," he greeted me. He gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Hi, love. You're done with your work-out?"

"Oui. It was a good one, too."

"Can we go somewhere to talk? I have something to discuss with you."

He seemed a bit taken aback, especially by how serious I was. "Sure. Is something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all. C'mon," I said. I led him out of the gym and to the greenhouse. 

We stood facing each other and I told him. I gave him the whole story---my conversation with Scott and Jean, the waiting around for a day, and then Jean's talk with me at breakfast.

"Can you believe it?" I asked. "If Queen Marina agrees to it and if her scientists have a cure or can develop one….you'll be free of this disease!"

I'd never seen Jean-Paul looking so shocked. For a second, I saw something wild in his eyes and I feared some sort of negative reaction. But his wide-open mouth formed into a smile. He grabbed me and hugged me. 

"This is incredible!" he said, sounding elated. "Incredible!"

I then repeated something I'd told him earlier: Jean said it was alright if we told Jeanne-Marie, but other than her, we had to keep it quiet for now.

"I cannot wait to tell her!" Jean-Paul said. "She will be so happy!" Jean-Paul then seemed to pause and reflect for a moment. He turned to me and said, "Jesus Christ. Can you imagine what Scott is going to go through for us? For me! We are going to be in debt to Scott Summers for all of eternity."

I nodded. "Yeah. But what else can we do?" I asked, shrugging. "So we're in his debt. I don't think he's the type who'd throw it around and abuse it." At least I hoped not. But I did try to appreciate what this would mean for him. Rumor had it that Scott had never slept with anyone except Jean. What he would be doing with Marina was obviously going to be a big deal.

"I hope not."

There was silence for a second. I then said, "I'm glad we're so close to Endaria now, and I think I'll spend the rest of the trip in my quarters. How the hell am I supposed to keep this a secret from Jubilee or Dani….or **Hank**?? He's like my best friend and he's working day and night on a cure!"

"It's okay, Bobby. Maybe it is good for Hank to continue his research. Marina might not have a cure of any sort."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "That's one thing we gotta be real clear on when we tell Jeanne-Marie about this. This might not exactly work out. I can't stand the thought of her getting her hopes up and…." I let my voice trail off.

"I was thinking the same thing. Let us think of how to break the news to Jeanne-Marie."

And so we talked about it for a while before summoning her to the greenhouse. I suppose I don't need to say that she was euphoric. We were very clear that this plan relied on a lot of factors outside of our control, to which Jeanne-Marie replied, "No one knows better than I that nothing in life is guaranteed." But still, at the prospect of her brother recovering from HIV, Jeanne-Marie cried with joy which somehow prompted me to join her. The three of us stood in the greenhouse like forever, in a three-way hug. 

This trip had been a rollercoaster of emotions. I had no idea how things would play out either, but I can say that up to that point, I'd never felt closer to Jeanne-Marie than when the three of us stood around hugging and crying in the greenhouse. I'd never felt more like the three of us were family.

****************

Believe it or not, I managed to get through the rest of the trip without spilling the beans to anyone else. Shocking, I know.

It **was** hard. I was wracked with guilt, especially over not telling Hank. Hank sat in that laboratory morning, noon and night searching for a cure. While I knew what Jean-Paul told me the other day was correct (it still was a good idea for him to keep researching a cure, who knew if Marina would or could really help us?), that still didn't change things. I felt terrible. I mainly avoided the lab so I could avoid Hank. And needless to say, I could barely make eye contact with Panda when I saw her at mealtime or in the Danger Room either. It didn't take a genius to see that she wasn't happy with the amount of time her husband spent away from her. 

I ended up spending most of my time in my room (perhaps everyone thought I was depressed, which was fine) when I wasn't in the Danger Room or working on karate with Wolverine. Finally, we were landing the ship on An'zhina.

****************

As they walked down Freedom's ramp, the X-men wearily carried their belongings with them. Several of the citizens of An'zhina were on hand to assist. With dilithium supplies having dwindled, using the transporter to move things would have been wasteful.

The X-men were tired because according to the schedule kept on board the starship, it was very late in the night (actually, very early in the morning.) On An'zhina, however, it was just around dinnertime. As much as the starship crew attempted to keep their internal clocks in synch with time on An'zhina, doing so was nearly impossible.

"I hope you'll be awake enough for the party we planned," Angel said to his fellow X-men as they walked from the ship's ramp to the main building. The setting was a little chaotic with the An'zhinans swarming around the X-men, greeting old friends and trying to help them disembark. 

"Gambit's up for a party," Gambit responded to Angel's comment.

"You're always up for one," Rogue laughed, shaking her head. She decided that she could attend a party but she'd definitely need a good drink with caffeine to help keep her energy up.

Professor Xavier's hoverchair stood at the rim of Freedom's ramp. He greeted each of his students as they walked by. He silently rejoiced at their return, at seeing each one of them. The loss of Colossus still stung, and it was a relief to be able to look upon the faces of each X-man once again. 

Storm and Wolverine entered the main complex, walking side by side as each carried their personal items. Storm eyed the smooth walls of the halls, some of them dark and rich like maple and others textured like fine marble. She breathed in deeply.

"The air's much better here," Wolverine said.

"Yes," Storm replied. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. A warm evening on An'zhina was smiling on the X-men, all of whom (even Storm) had grown accustomed to a chilly starship. "I can hardly wait to spend some time at the beach too." She then started to say something but stopped. She and Wolverine had reached the corridor of the X-men's quarters.

"You got everything from the ship?" Wolverine asked.

"I need to make one more trip," Storm said. 

"C'mon. I'll go with you. Lemme set this stuff down first."

Wolverine's room was a few doors down from Storm's. He entered his room and dumped his baggage onto the bed. Storm did the same thing with her own items. Apparently, she thought to herself, they would continue to maintain separate rooms, just as they did aboard Freedom. `It does make sense,' she told herself. `It's good to have some space.' Besides, it would not preclude them from sharing a bed and falling asleep together, as they did about half the time. Storm reached for a holder and placed her hair into a ponytail, looking forward to feeling warmth hitting the back of her neck. 

Storm and Wolverine then met in the hall again and headed back for Freedom. He reached for her hand and they held hands as they walked. During the short trip back to the vessel, they ran into and greeted several acquaintances. Many noted that the two were holding hands but refrained from comment. 

"An'zhina. This place feels so much like home to me," Storm said, as they neared the starship. It loomed large ahead of them, and they walked up the ramp together. They passed the Grey family, who were assisting Jean and Scott with carrying the many toys and other baby items that belonged to Charlotte and Christopher. "It feels strange to say that, because my real home is in Africa. But I feel so comfortable here too."

Wolverine grunted a reply, which Storm was fairly sure meant that he agreed he had homey feelings towards An'zhina (probably not as strong as Storm's) while also feeling some confusion over the true location of home. 

"You wanna go to the party?" Wolverine asked her when they had finished carrying the rest of her items to her room on An'zhina.

"I would like to go. I am a little tired but I am fairly invigorated from being back here, so I think I am up for it. What about you?"

"I ain't really tired. I ain't feelin' too social either but I do wanna say hi to a few of 'em."

"Then let's go to the party, at least for a little."

They headed in the direction of the music and other commotion. The large rec room was merrily decorated with balloons and streamers, An'zhina's resident deejay Russ was spinning tunes, a few adventures souls were already dancing on the dance floor, and numerous delectable desserts and drinks were ready for consumption. 

In speaking with various citizens of An'zhina, Storm and Wolverine found that their haven had been experiencing a renaissance of sorts. With so many of the An'zhinians now gradually recovering from their harrowing experiences in the FOH camps, they had started turning their attentions to other matters -- such as building a community. During the X-men's absence, various people on An'zhina had formed: volleyball and softball "leagues", cooking classes (instead of replicating complete meals, they replicated only the ingredients and also used vegetables from the gardens to cook with), book discussion groups (using books that the Endarians let them replicate), a "bad art" club (the members met periodically to create whatever pieces of "art" they desired, giving themselves permission to make junk), a dance hall (which housed not only dance lessons but also more informal dances, with Russ serving as DJ), religious and spiritual groups serving many different religious persuasions, yoga classes and assorted other exercise classes (sometimes guided by those who were as amateur as the participants), and a few venturous souls were even talking about starting a newsletter. These events and groups flourished, though many of the rescuees logged a lot of time in counseling and self-esteem building workshops too.

"Mmmmm," Storm sighed, biting into a chocolate brownie with frosting. It was moist and chewy, and delicious despite having come from a replicator. In order to save dilithium, the X-men had been parsimonious about limiting the amount of junk food they made on board the ship---it had been quite some time since Storm had eaten a treat such as this. The piece she'd taken was small and Storm finished it with just a few bites.

"Oh!" she softly exclaimed at feeling a tongue against her skin. Wolverine licked the side of her face.

"You had some frosting there, darlin'," he said, with a slight grin.

Storm smiled and felt her face grow warm again. A new sort of delicious feeling started to come over her, a sensation even better than eating the brownies. Wolverine then reached for one of her hands and licked the remaining frosting off of her fingers. He placed the tip of one of her fingers between his teeth and bit down, ever so slightly, knowing she enjoyed that.

"Oh my, Logan," Storm whispered sensuously. "If you continue doing this, I am going to want to leave the party with you right away." She felt quite giddy at what he was doing, especially given that the rec room was full of people. Logan was generally not one for public displays of affection. This was a rare treat.

They sat together for a little while longer. Soon, however, Jubilee entered the rec room with her daughter Aurora and with Dani Moonstar. The two-year old spotted Wolverine and Storm, and bounded right over to them. Storm leaned forward and lifted the girl onto her lap. Rory was clutching her gray stuffed elephant, Ellie.

"I know, I know," Jubilee said, walking up towards the couple and sounding just a bit defensive. "She probably should be sleeping now. But I can't get her to calm down with all the commotion going on. She wants to be down here, playing with everyone."

"You do not need to explain that to us," Storm said simply and evenly. "We understand. One late night certainly can't hurt Rory either."

"She's right," Dani said, looking at Jubilee. "You don't need to keep comparing her to Scott and Jean's kids, Jubilee," Dani said soothingly. "Rory's doing just fine."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that…." Jubilee broke her sentence off, upon spotting Lisman and Siryn. A frown came over her face and she felt a need to put some more physical distance between herself and the man who had dumped her.

"Uh, would you mind keeping an eye on her?" Jubilee asked Storm and Wolverine.

"Not at all," Storm replied.

"Thanks, guys." Jubilee and Dani soon headed off towards the drink area, a comfortable distance away from Lisman.

Little Aurora wanted some action, so Wolverine bounced her on his knees, much to the merriment of the girl. The couple happily played with her until she spotted another adult she knew and bounded over towards them.

"I love that child," Storm murmured.

"Me too," Wolverine said.

Storm looked down at her hands and folded them in her lap. "Do you want kids, Logan?"

He shrugged and looked at her. His words were matter-of-fact as always; not at all harsh. "I thought you said you can't have `em." When the two had first begun their relationship, she had shared with him the fact that she had never become pregnant, even despite periods of sexual activity without her having used birth control. And during the time that Storm and Wolverine had been together, they had never used any form of contraception either. Storm had never been examined to see whether or not she truly was infertile, but such was the inevitable conclusion. Besides, she was not that young anymore either.

"I cannot," Storm confirmed. "But I was wondering if you missed not having them."

"Kids are a lot of work. I like bein' an Uncle instead."

"I, too. Being an Aunt, I mean. Every now and then, I get a small craving for a child of my own, but it always passes." She looked at his face and tried to read his expression. She guessed that perhaps, if the opportunity were available, he might like to be a father someday. But ever a realist, he was okay with the fact that as long as he and Storm were together, he would not have children of his own. He probably truly **was** alright with that, Storm guessed. But then she started to second guess that. True, Logan had never **said** anything about wanting children but with Logan, actions generally spoke louder than words and he was such a natural when he played with the kids. 

`Ah well. I cannot speculate about this anymore, and there is nothing I can do about it either,' she said to herself. 

A slim woman in her forties approached the sofa on which Storm and Wolverine sat. "Excuse me," she said, speaking in a British accent. It was Agata, the former dance teacher who had spent weeks conducing a class in salsa lessons for the other An'zhinians. "Storm, I wanted to let you know that I will be beginning a new class on Friday. I plan to teach a variety of dance styles, though primarily Latin --- my specialty. If people are interested, I might throw in some ballroom dancing too though."

"Yes, I saw the notice you had up on the bulletin board," Storm said. "I look forward to attending your class."

"That is wonderful! You seemed to really enjoy the salsa dancing and I am sure you'll like this as well."

Agata then scampered off to continue spreading the word about her classes. Her first round had been a big hit on An'zhina. 

"You want a partner for the class?"

At first, Storm didn't believe her ears. She then realized that she must have misconstrued the intent in Wolverine's question. "Well, of course, these classes are easier with a partner, but I could attend solo. I did that for the salsa dancing." She paused. "You weren't offering to partner with me for these dances, were you?"

"Yep. I was."

Storm's eyes were wide. "Really? Oh, Logan. I—I would like that very much."

"Okay. I'll put on my dancin' shoes."

Storm tried to repress a smile. Unsure of what to say or how to thank him, she reached for Logan and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. 

Storm surmised that this had to be his way of saying that he loved her. It was not often that he said those words—quite rarely, in fact---but, again, Logan was a man of action and not words. Only for a woman he loved would he make this offer. `Perhaps I truly am not a mere Jean-substitute….'

They left the party not too long afterwards, in favor of the beach. Only a few An'zhinans were frolicking in the water at this time, though Storm and Wolverine weren't sure why----they soon found that the water was pleasantly warm. She flew them to a deserted portion of the beach where they stripped off their clothing and plunged into the water.

"This was a great idea, darlin'," Wolverine said. He inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of the outdoors----the air that surrounded them, the water they were immersed in, and the sand underneath their feet. It was more delicious to his nose than any confection the food replicator could make.

"You love the smell of this clean air, don't you?" Storm asked.

"Uh-huh. Out of everythin' on this place, I like the air the best." Logan paused. "No, that ain't what I meant to say. I like you the best." She met his gaze and smiled. The words were sincere and sounded awkwardly touching---for a second, Logan had sounded like a teenager trying to woo his high school sweetheart. Storm loved it. 

Wolverine then looked up towards the heavens. Several of Endaria's other moons were visible to the naked eye from there and the view was awe-inspiring. The large planet of Endaria itself seemed to engulf the sky in a blue-green haze. "Can't believe I'm standin' here so far from earth and I feel so at home."

Storm went up to Logan and embraced him, feeling his damp and hairy chest against her smooth skin. She knew that he understood she felt the same way about An'zhina; therefore, she decided no more words were needed. He reached for her chin and with always-surprising gentleness, brought her face to his for a kiss. Storm savored the kiss.

Soon Logan changed from subtlety to a more aggressive approach and he was nibbling on her neck, and then tonguing her ear. They had not headed to the beach exactly planning on making love there, but she was happy to go with the flow on this. Storm wrapped her legs around Wolverine, wondering how—after all this time together---he managed to arouse her so quickly. The turn their relationship had recently taken, admitting to each other the fact that they loved each other, explained a lot though she had to admit she enjoyed it when he demonstrated how much he desired her too. 

"Here?" Storm whispered, her voice a question mark.

He tilted his head back and this time took a very pointed sniff of the air. "We're alone. Ain't no one in the surroundin' area."

"Perhaps something quick then?" she suggested.

The sound of her voice and the suggestion it carried, he found incredibly stimulating. Logan nodded. "I like that. Though later on I wanna make love to you properly."

"You shall get no objections from me on that idea," Storm murmured, reaching in for another kiss. "However, a fast encounter can have its own pleasures too."

Wolverine reached a hand towards one of Storm's thighs. "I love your legs," he growled. "I love feelin' 'em wrapped around me."

Their kisses soon turned frantic. Logan took her firm bottom in his hands and squeezed the flesh, eliciting a moan from her. His groin ached already and he could tell from the way she was moving her hips against his body that she was ready, or soon would be. She gripped his shoulders firmly, enjoying the feeling of his rippling muscles. 

Suddenly, his ears perked up and he turned his head away, taking another sniff of the air. 

"Company?" Storm asked.

"'Bout a half mile down that way," he estimated, "and headin' towards us." 

"Not a problem," Storm said, leaning back a little from Wolverine so she could take a majestic sweep of an arm. "I call upon the element of fog," she declared, her voice attaining regal heights. "Shield us from onlookers!"

Soon, the beach area was swathed in dense fog, reducing visibility to almost nothing. Storm jumped back into Wolverine's arms and in one swift motion, impaled herself on his raging hardness. His eyes widened with surprise at her speed. 

Wolverine and Storm both knew they were going to have a difficult time explaining this to someone, should anyone ask why fog appeared out of nowhere that night. 

**************

Back at the celebration in the rec room, the party was showing signs of winding down. Very few X-men remained at the celebration; most had allowed their fatigue to get the best of them and retired to their rooms for the night.

Jubilee's daughter Aurora was sleeping on a corner of one sofa. Jubilee and Moonstar sat nearby, facing each other on two barstools as they sipped fruit-flavored drinks.

"She seemed to have a good time tonight," Jubilee said, cocking her head in Rory's direction.

Dani nodded, looking at Jubilee and feeling her heart pounding. "I think so. Did **you** have a good time tonight?"

"Yeah. It's always great to be back on An'zhina---especially after all we went through to get here and all the uncertainty we had. And it's really cool to hear about all the neat stuff they're starting up here too. I think might join the Bad Art club." She paused. "But I wish that Bobby had been at the party and that Rogue and Gambit had stayed for longer. They're always so much fun."

"I think Bobby's a stitch," Moonstar agreed. "When he's in a good mood, he's hilarious. Remember that time we played True Confessions in Bobby and Northstar's room?" she asked, giggling.

"That was great," Jubilee agreed, though the amount of alcohol she had imbibed that night limited her memories of that particular party. Jubilee then shook her head. "But I can't believe Lisman and Siryn tonight. What nerve." Earlier in the evening, Jubilee's ex-boyfriend and his current girlfriend and strode up to Jubilee and said the usual, 'Hi, how are yous' as if nothing had transpired between them. Jubilee had swallowed her latent hurt and played nice, though part of her wanted to use her powers and blast both members of the couple with pyrotechnics. 

"Yeah, what the hell?" Dani murmured in agreement. Dani sat across from her friend, just gazing at Jubilee's face. Were the men on An'zhina just blind to Jubilee's obvious charms? She was adorably beautiful, Dani mused, if that wasn't too much of a contradiction. Jubilee had an impish, playful nature, her eyes and her smile shone, and the nose was as cute as a button. Jubilee had a heart of gold, too. Dani hadn't known the teenager Jubilee when she'd joined the X-men, though she had heard many stories. This Jubilee was older and wiser, with some obvious signs of the pain she had endured in her lifetime. She had a mature sheen to her now, though her true spirit had not been broken. 

She was in Dani's thoughts all the time. Just thinking about Jubilee brought a smile to Moonstar's face. She looked at Jubilee's smile and longed to be able to someday kiss those lips.

Dani vowed to get up her nerve soon.

***************

Mark Burroughs and Hector Rendoza had also attended the "Welcome Home" party for the X-men. The two were still good friends. It had been their "outsider" status which had brought them together as friends in the first place. However, Hector's diligent training and his work in the lab with Hank and Panda meant Hector's confidence was growing in direct proportion to his acceptance within the X-men. Mark, on the other hand, felt his alienation and self-disgust still simmering. He was continuously mortified by his mistake in engineering which had wiped out the X-men's supply of dilithium. Mark tended to keep to himself nowadays; Hector had been surprised that Mark wanted to attend the party. 

Mark and Hector made a bad judgement call during the party. While standing near the bar area and thinking no one else was within earshot, they spoke in hushed whispers regarding Northstar's HIV status. They said nothing negative about Northstar; they just expressed concern for Bobby's and Jeanne-Marie's mental conditions should Northstar die soon.

The two were unaware that Todd had been crouching down behind the bar, searching for a contact lens, and had overheard everything.

***************

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated. Please post a review to fanfiction.net or email me at stormkpr@usa.net


	6. Chapter 6

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

Author's note: I realize that I have been extremely negligent. Since the start _of The Heavens Open_, I've managed to forget to thank my beta tester!! My beta tester Leigh is outstanding, constantly providing me with inspiration, new insights, and plentiful ideas. She's also a great author in her own right. Leigh, I apologize for this oversight! There is no way I would have even begun this third book if it weren't for you.

CHAPTER SIX

***************

The day after the X-men returned from their journey, the Professor called a meeting of the team leaders and field commanders. Soon after lunchtime, the Professor sat around a circular table with Cyclops, Storm, Rogue, and Wolverine. Banshee was present too, given his role as one of the co-leaders on An'zhina. 

Beast and Moira bypassed the meeting (despite their roles as Field Commander and Co-leader of An'zhina, respectively) in favor of working together on their research of a cure for HIV. They had been up since sunrise, working in the lab. Both scientists had also skipped the previous evening's party in order to work too.

Cyclops was finishing recounting the events of the past few months to Xavier and Banshee. "If I had to sum it up," he was saying, "I would have to say that the mission was somewhere between a success and a failure. We were successful in preventing the FOH from unleashing a deadly virus on earth, and in doing so, we saved countless lives --- mutant and probably, ultimately, non-mutant too. But we were not able to carry-out the original plan of Jean using her powers to change public opinion—and change the FOH leader's minds---regarding mutants." He paused and looked steadily at the Professor. "And I know that the way we…acquired the dilithium from that planet was…was not the best thing we've ever done, either," he finished, awkwardly.

In going over the events that occurred during their mission, Scott had dreaded that part the most. There was no getting around the fact that the X-men basically beamed down and **took** dilithium from an inhabited planet. To top matters off, there were their dealings with the mysterious man called Dagron and the fact that they ended up leaving a shuttle on the surface of the planet. And prior to those events, there was the treaty the X-men made with the Pirates. The X-men had had good reasons for doing what they did, but none of those decisions were really acceptable either, Scott knew.

The Professor took a deep breath. "I agree with you that there were both positive and negative aspects to this mission. The fact that you prevented FOH from unleashing a virus is outstanding, and I agree that untold lives certainly were saved because of that." He paused, "And I do recognize that when you lost all your dilithium, you were left with limited and imperfect choices."

"We had to do whatever it took to get back to An'zhina," Scott said. "We couldn't risk this ship getting captured again by FOH."

"I understand," he responded, slowly and calmly. His voice carried no reproach; however, the faintest hint of disappointed could be detected. "And I know that you understand some of the possible ramifications of your decisions. We can no longer prevent Marrow and Psylocke from capturing and torturing FOH soldiers, for one thing."

"If we have to, we can," Storm said. When all eyes turned to her, she continued, "Please, do not misunderstand me. We made a pledge and I believe that we are obligated to abide by it. However, the only thing that binds us to the pact we signed with them is our honor. If ever the right circumstances arise and we need to go back on our word, that option is available."

"I disagree with ya, Storm," Wolverine said. "We can't junk the X-men's honor or our word. We signed an agreement and we gotta stick to it."

"I do agree that when we give our word, we should stand by it. However, what if someday the Pirates are in a position to do something that would cause great harm----worse harm that blowing up an FOH ship? If an extreme circumstance arises, I think then we might have to consider breaking our pact with them."

"I still say our honor stands," Wolverine said. "Besides, you gotta think of it this way. We don't want 'em mad at us. Psylocke's a real powerful telepath and telekinetic. Someday we might be somewhere without the Professor or Jean. If the Pirates wanna get some revenge at us for breakin' our agreement, we might not be able to stop 'em."

Rogue listened to the exchange, admiring the way Storm and Wolverine handled the disagreement. Neither seemed hurt or offended; they simply voiced the fact that they didn't see eye-to-eye and explained their reasons. She suspected that they would easily be able to walk away from this disagreement too, and go on with everything as normal.

Then Rogue started to wonder. `Am I ever that mature 'bout things when Remy and I have a conflict….?'

"I'm most concerned about the events that occurred on the planet," the Professor said. "I understand why you did what you did, but the fact that a shuttle from earth was left on their planet's surface could prove problematic."

Cyclops nodded. "If someone has discovered it and is examining it, that could really impact the natural evolution of their planet."

"Especially given that this Dagron seems incredibly powerful and potentially dangerous, from the limited interactions you had with him."

"Maybe next time we head for space," Rogue began, "we oughtta swing by that planet and check up on old Dagron."

"I think that would be wise," Storm said. "Of course the next question is, when and how will we get back into space? We used almost all of the dilithium we received from the planet to get back here. Our last scan indicated we only had about six days' worth of dilithium use left."

"We canna replicate dilithium from here, can we?" Banshee asked.

"No," Storm answered. "It is one of those substances that is too chemically complex and can not be replicated. An'zhina itself does not contain any dilithium on its surface, either. I believe that we were told, though, that they do occasionally undertake missions into space where they stock up on dilithium since it's such a great power source."

He Professor shook his head. "I have been thinking about this constantly since Jean and I made contact a week ago. I think we are in quite a quandary. We have no dilithium here nor do we have the means to warp to a location with dilithium. Unless someone brings it to us, we might be out of options."

"And who's gonna just bring us dilithium?" Rogue asked. "I think we can count out Betsy and Marrow. They got a whole passel of dilithium but they ain't gonna share it. 'Sides, we already sold our souls to 'em and I don't think we got anything left to bargain with." She paused and involuntarily found herself looking at Scott. He noticed the direction of her gaze and looked right back at her. "Maybe Queen Marina can help."

The room was silent for a while as they pondered their options. Cyclops's thoughts, however, were no longer on dilithium as he fought to suppress his rage. Out of all the X-men, he was not the most perceptive one --- but from the way Rogue looked at him and the tone of her voice….he knew. He knew that Bobby had told Rogue (and, most likely, Gambit) what Scott was planning to ask from the Queen. And he knew that Rogue had perhaps been thinking that while Scott was going to be at it, he might as well ask for some dilithium from the Queen too. `Can't anyone on this team keep a goddamn secret?' he thought, beyond furious. The thought of everyone discussing his private life like this outraged him. Cyclops was not going to just let this one sit, either.

"Well then, it seems that maybe the X-men will be staying here for a while," Banshee said, oblivious to Scott's festering anger. "Maybe that willna be such a bad thing. Moira and Hank can work together on finding a cure for Northstar. And I could certainly use some more help in working with the 300 mutants here."

"Speakin' of that," Wolverine began, "how's it goin'? We find anyone else wanna join us?"

Banshee shook his head. He went on to explain that most of the rescued mutants were enjoying "vacationing" on An'zhina. For those with powers that needed to be reigned in (such as Jean's nephew Joe, who had the power to see through objects and had needed help in learning how this worked so that he could see "normally" when he wanted to), as soon as they were taught how to control them, they generally wanted to cease training. Many of them chose to remain in counseling to deal with emotional issues.

"Why is it, in your opinion, that no one wants to join the X-men?" Storm asked.

"I have asked some of them that question," Banshee said. "I've heard a lot of different answers but the usual ones come down to the fact that they think it will be too much work and that they just enjoy a slow-paced life on An'zhina now." Banshee paused and looked at Scott. "One exception is your nephew, Scott. The lad says he wants ta start training with us, but he's too young now, of course." 

Banshee saw Scott smile in response, but the older man noticed Scott seemed rather preoccupied.

"I been thinkin' 'bout this problem of not gettin' anyone new to join," Wolverine said. His comments did not surprise Storm. She knew that deep down, he actually loved to teach, loved to train others. She'd observed him teaching karate to Bobby and Jubilee, and she sometimes speculated that **Wolverine** was the one who got the most out of it. Not that he wasn't truly an inspiring teacher too. "If people think it's gonna be too much work, maybe we gotta come up with some ways to show 'em that it ain't impossible."

Storm nodded. "I see where you are coming from. I've had some discussions with the rescued mutants and it appears that they sometimes view us as….as leading these difficult lives and training endlessly."

"And performing feats that they are not capable of," Banshee finished for her. "As if we are somehow born with powers that are greater than theirs."

"Yes, and they need to realize that our powers are not necessarily inherently stronger---it is just that we have learned to make the most of them. If we could demonstrate to them that, with a little time and patience, they could also learn to maximize their powers and join us as well….we perhaps can enlist a few more to the X-men." Storm paused. "Being an X-man is definitely challenging but it is also enormously fulfilling. Perhaps they do not see the benefits of this."

The team discussed these ideas a bit more and resolved to come up with some ways to encourage some of the An'zhinians to consider joining the X-men and ease them into it. The Professor also said that he would contact the Pirates to ask about receiving some dilithium from them, although no one was terribly optimistic about that plan. 

"If and when we do acquire more dilithium," Storm began, "what next then? Do we continue with our original plan of using telepathy to change the minds and opinions of earth's leaders?"

"I think we gotta," Wolverine answered. "Freein' the mutants from the camps was good but it's still just a drop in the bucket."

"You're probably right," Rogue agreed.

About one thing there was no doubt: until the X-men obtained more dilithium, they were stuck on An'zhina.

The meeting was called to an end. However, before Rogue could leave, she felt a hand on her arm. "Rogue, I want to talk with you." Cyclops's voice was low and quiet but very firm.

"'Course," Rogue replied. As the room emptied out, she realized that Scott had been oddly quiet during most of the second half of the meeting. She and Scott sat back down at the table once they were alone. "What's on your mind, sugar?"

Scott opened his mouth to speak. He usually was not at a loss for words regarding command decisions but he found sentences failing him now. His face flushed; dealing with uncomfortable matters was never easy. "Rogue, I wanted to remind you of a decision we X-men made long ago. When we discuss matters in these team leader meetings, if we decide that something is confidential then we are to keep it so."

Rogue's face looked blank, and Scott wasn't sure if she knew what he was getting at. "Of course, Cyke. Mum's the word." She then paused, realizing that a flip approach probably wasn't going to suffice here. "Is there any particular reason you're bringin' this up?"

"Yes." He took a breath as he groped for words. Jean would know what and how to say here. But he had to try to find the right way to say the words. He finally decided upon the direct approach. "Look, I'm aware that you told Bobby of the request that Queen Marina made of me. At the meeting where that was discussed, we decided not to divulge this information to anyone outside of the room."

For a split second, Rogue had a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. But she recovered quickly. Although somewhat embarrassed by this, she could not say she was surprised either---of course Scott had to know that someone had not kept the secret. She and Gambit had discussed the possibility of this very situation arising. They knew that if Bobby went to Scott and asked him to fulfil the Queen's request in exchange for a cure for Northstar, Scott would obviously know that **someone** had spilled the beans and told Bobby about the request. And Scott knew that Bobby was good friends with Rogue and Gambit.

Rogue knew that Scott's anger **was** somewhat justified here, so she turned up the honey in her voice and kept out the vinegar. "Cyke, you're right. I did tell, and I'm really sorry about it." Her accent subconsciously thickened. "The only reason I did it was because I was concerned about Bobby's well-being. I mean, Cyke, think about it. If Northstar dies from this disease, I can't even imagine the shape Bobby's gonna be in. Heck, he might even try to take his own life again---heaven forbid. I wasn't in the X-men at the time, but Bobby told me all about the first time he tried to kill himself. If it hadn't been for Hank and the Professor…" She let her voice trail off. She also didn't mind that she had just pointed out, in a subtle way, the fact that Scott had done basically nothing to help Bobby during that depressing period of the Iceman's life. She then continued, "So I did fail to keep the secret, and I'm sorry 'bout it. I just hope you understand my reasons." 

Rogue fervently hoped that Scott didn't know that she and Gambit had actually "spilled the beans" about Marina's request long before Northstar's diagnosis.

Cyclops nodded. "I understand your reasoning, but I must ask you to use better discretion in the future. Part of being a leader means respecting confidential information."

`Oh, heck, am I gonna get a lecture now?' Rogue thought. But her reply continued to convey her regretful and sweet tone of voice. She didn't like eating crow but sometimes, she reasoned, you just had to do things you didn't enjoy. `Hey, if Northstar's life---and Bobby's sanity---are saved, it'll all be worth it,' she thought. "You're very right, Cyclops. Honest, I'm real sorry. It won't happen again."

Scott was quiet and he nodded. Rogue knew that was his way of accepting the apology.

"So, are you gonna go through with it? You gonna ask Marina for a cure?" The words slipped out of Rogue's mouth before she realized it. She immediately wished that she had not asked. That was one quality of Gambit's that she really admired. He wouldn't accidentally blurt out anything that he didn't mean to say. He wouldn't allow curiosity to get the better of him, either but if he wanted to know something, he would find a very subtle way to get the answers.

Scott was very flustered by this question. After Rogue's apology, he did not expect that she'd have the audacity to ask this. `Of course,' he told himself, `why am I surprised….this is **Rogue** I'm dealing with.' He quickly replied, "I'm considering it."

`Considering it??' Rogue thought. When Bobby had told her of Scott's reply to the request, he'd made it seem like it was basically a done-deal. `Is our fearless leader backin' down?' Rogue wondered. But she then took a good look at his face. His skin was slightly flushed; she gathered that this entire conversation had been uncomfortable for him. `Maybe he just answered that way 'cause he's all nervous at me rufflin' his feathers like this,' she thought. 

She desperately hoped that Scott was not having second thoughts. 

*************

Gambit and I were at the beach. It was only the day after our return to An'zhina, but both of us missed the water, the sand, the luxury of being able to lay outside in the sun. Rogue had said that she'd join us after this meeting that the X-men leaders were having.

"Dis one time I sure feel glad dat I'm not a field commander," Gambit said.

I nodded my agreement, "Uh-huh. Let them sit inside a conference room on a day like today. We won't miss it." Gambit and I were laying on our backs on towels in the sand. As it was a gorgeous day, the beach was buzzing with activity and I heard the sounds of several others playing in the background. A volleyball game was underway and many were swimming too. I was glad to just be lazing around though. I ran my fingers through the sand, enjoying its warmth and texture.

"Storm and Wolverine mus' be goin' crazy," Gambit said. "Bet dey can't wait to get outta dat conference room and outdoors."

"The burdens of command," I murmured. I then sat up to re-apply some sun block as I'd been in the water earlier and just realized that I should put another coat on. The replicators are pretty amazing but they still don't make any sort of product that completely protects us against ultraviolet radiation. And the research the Endarians provided us clearly indicated that prolonged exposure to their sun without some sort of protection could be hazardous to our skin's health (though the situation wasn't anywhere near as bad as the one on earth.) Even though I was the iceman, I did enjoy the hot sun----just as long as water was nearby and I could cool down when I needed to.

"How're the gardens doin?" Gambit asked.

"Pretty good." I had checked on the maintenance of the vegetable gardens that morning. "There's a great crop of tomatoes coming up, and some incredible carrots and okra. With all the new social activities taking place on An'zhina now, there's an organized group taking care of the garden, and they're doing well. They asked me to be one of their guides." I paused. "They planted a bunch of flowers near the monument too, and it looks really beautiful," I added, referring to the monument that had been built on An'zhina to commemorate all the mutants who had been persecuted and killed for being mutants. 

We continued chatting and I sat up, propped against a beach bag I'd brought with. John and Elaine Grey could now be seen with their two younger grandchildren in tow, along with Jubilee's daughter too. Charlotte and Rory both looked ecstatic to be on the beach once again and they frolicked happily.

"Just think, Remy," I began, "someday soon, you'll have one of those. A baby of your own."

"Yeah. I know."

The way he spoke those three words, his tone, was quite revealing, and I wonder if perhaps unintentionally so. If it was an accidental slip, it was unlike Gambit. "You don't sound all that enthused," I observed. 

"I guess I ain't all that ent'used. Oh, Bobby, don't get me wrong," he said, sitting up so as to be able to look at me directly. "I love the idea of bein' a Pere someday. An' I love Rogue. Is jus' dat….dat dis be so soon. Rogue and I not been married all dat long and I wanna spend some more time wit' jus' her an' me. We got so much time before we gotta have kids, we still be young. I wish we could wait a bit more."

"Have you discussed this with her?" 

"No. She be so excited 'bout dis an' so eager."

I spread my hands, "Well, Remy, that may be true but don't you think you should talk about this with her? I mean, tell her some of the things you just told me."

He sighed. "I know. Is just dat I hate to dampen her excitement."

"Well, yeah, but we're talking about having a baby here. That's pretty serious stuff and if you're feeling some hesitation over it…." I let my voice trail off. "It's probably better to talk about it now instead of waiting till she's pregnant. Then it's too late."

Gambit was oddly irresolute on this. It seemed a little unlike him. He said that he basically agreed with what I said but kept deferring the idea of discussing it with his wife. I kept trying to probe and find out why. He finally said, "Bobby, it's like dis. Rogue has had so much pain in her life an' so much hurt. Havin' a baby will give her some more happiness an' I don't wanna take it away from her. I don't wanna take away anyt'in' dat give her happiness. She ain't had it easy.""

That last statement was the one he sounded the most firm on, so I stopped pressing the issue. It was none of my business anyway and no skin off my back if they did have a baby soon---- and besides, I looked forward to the possibility of yet another baby for me to play Uncle with. But Gambit's last few sentences kept replaying themselves in my mind. Yeah, Rogue's had a lot of pain in her life but so, I was sure, had Gambit.

"How is Jean-Paul doin'?" Gambit asked me. I guessed that maybe he wanted to steer the conversation away from his ambivalence on the baby issue.

"He's fine," I said. "He and his sister and Kurt wanted to hike around some of the hills today. So that's where they are now."

"So…do we know when Cyke's gonna contact Marina 'bout gettin' a cure?"

I shook my head. "I wish I knew. But I gotta give the guy some time, you know. We only got home last night, and I'm sure he and Jean are very busy, getting caught up with the rest of their family and with the leadership stuff." I took a breath. "But I hope it's soon. Poor Hank. He and Moira are working away in that lab when he should be out here relaxing. I can't even tell you how guilty I feel over that." 

My life was not going to get any easier, I knew, even if Jean-Paul was cured. I would end up owing Scott and Jean forever, and though I knew Hank would forgive me, I still felt like a jerk for not telling him that he could unchain himself to the laboratory.

"Hank will forgive you," Gambit said, eerily echoing my thoughts. 

"Yeah, but **Panda** might not forgive me," I muttered. I then added, "Not that I can blame her too much. She doesn't get to spend much time with him, and they have a baby on the way."

"You know dat he loves his work an' loves looking for solutions. Dis problem 'bout him workin' too much was gonna come up eventually, and he and Panda gotta sort dat one out for demselves." He said that last sentence with a note of finality. He then looked at me and asked, with tenderness in his voice, "So tell me really….How are t'ings wit' you and Northstar now?"

I shrugged. "They're okay. More than okay, really. We talk. Sometimes he doesn't want to talk, and I respect that." I paused, and then added, "I don't know if I can fully understand what he's going through, you know? Actually, all things considered, things between us can't be much better than they are now. Except for----" I broke off.

"'Cept for what?" Gambit asked. There was some real curiosity in his words, I sensed. 

"The whole sex thing," I mumbled. 

Somehow I knew that this was exactly where Gambit had wanted our conversation to go. And somehow I felt mostly alright about opening up with him on it too. I'd always gotten the feeling that Gambit had this…undercurrent of interest in my and Jean-Paul's sex life. I can't really explain it and I'm not at all saying that I think Gambit's latently gay or bisexual --- but I just have always gotten the idea that he wants to know more about the general topic. (And of course there was that one incident between Gambit and I, years ago, not long after the X-men got control of Freedom and Rogue wasn't on speaking terms with him. He and I had been playing cards and drinking real booze one evening and he'd been tossing out innuendo at me all night, until he basically asked if I enjoyed performing blow jobs. Obviously I didn't indulge his barely-masked request and I subsequently wrote his behavior off as stemming from too much alcohol and too long without sex. He and I never spoke about that night and I had pretty much forgotten about it until this day at the beach reminded me.)

"Is it like he don't wanna do it anymore? Is he afraid of infecting you?" Gambit asked. 

"Yeah, he's basically afraid I'm going to contract the virus. We do have sex but we haven't been doing some of the things I really want to do."

"Like what?"

I smiled and answered him in a light-hearted manner. "What, you want details? Why are you asking?" I didn't think his intent was bad but I just didn't usually divulge any of this stuff to Gambit. Jubilee and Dani were the two with whom I shared whatever details they wanted, but I never really spoke in detail about my sex life with Rogue or Gambit. 

"We friends, no? 'Sides, you know dat I concerned for you an' not jus' tryin' to be nosy." He shrugged. "An' you know I ain't like Cyke or some other people here; I ain't the least bit uncomfortable wit' the gay t'ing. You one of my best friends in the world."

"Aww, thanks, Gambit," I said, his words easily melting my resistance to opening up. And I totally believed him when he said that he wasn't at all uncomfortable talking about homosexuality. After a while, it's pretty easy to tell who's put off by it and who isn't. And besides, I kinda brought it up when I mentioned that Jean-Paul and I weren't doing the things in bed that I wanted. "Okay," I began, "what's bugging me is that Jean-Paul won't allow us to do the anal thing. He's paranoid about getting me infected." I left out the fact that I also missed being able to swallow Jean-Paul's cum. Gambit didn't need to hear every detail. 

"What about condoms?"

"He's afraid that it's going to break. A few nights ago, I actually got him to agree to do it and convinced him that a condom would be enough protection. But just as he was gonna put the thing on, he went soft. That never happened before---him losing his erection."

"Hmmmm," Gambit said, "looks like his fears took over dere, no? Do you know, Bobby….is it really safe wit' a condom?" 

"Well, according to the literature I read---and I read a lot---it should be pretty safe, as long as the condom doesn't break. I just don't know what the chances are of that actually happening, you know? I don't know if condoms really break that often."  


"Did it ever happen to you?"

I looked around and saw that a few newcomers to the beach had arranged their towels within earshot of ours. They seemed fairly oblivious to us but just as a precaution, I lowered my voice. Gambit correspondingly leaned in a bit closer to me. "No." I paused. "But, I—uh---was a bad boy in the past. I haven't actually used condoms that much before." I didn't want to share any more of the details. When I was young and in my suicidal stage, I knew about AIDS but there were many years where I truly didn't care whether I lived or died. Didn't care about most of my partners either, frankly. The many men who I was with during that miserable time never even asked or suggested that we use condoms either.

Gambit nodded. "Well, it sound like he jus' really concerned for you. He don't wanna get you sick. He cares 'bout you."

"I know." I then, fearing eavesdroppers, lowered my voice to a whisper. "And I tell myself that if Cyclops actually goes through with what we talked about, Jean-Paul will be cured and this won't be an issue anymore." I paused and leaned back away from Remy. "Okay, Gambit, I've opened up to you, and now it's your turn. How did you get to be so like not-homophobic?"

"It was never a big deal for me," he said simply. "Back in the Bayou, I knew guys dat were gay and some bisexual guys too. Dey were cool. New Orleans got a big gay section." I really wished that he'd talk more and tell me something about his pre-X-men days. I watched his face intently and it seemed like maybe he was going to say more. 

But Rogue then walked up to us and the mood was lost. "Hey, chere," Gambit said, scrambling to his feet and embracing his wife. 

Rogue eagerly returned his kiss. She then stripped off her shorts (which were quite short, by the way) and half-shirt till she was clad in a bikini, and joined us in laying around at the beach. I noticed that it seemed Rogue's gotten really comfortable in her skin now. She has her powers so well under control that it doesn't appear she's all worried about skin or touch issues anymore. 

I hung out with them for a while longer, content to absorb the warmth of the sun. Rogue had brought some snacks with her so we nibbled on the food. At one point, Charlotte meandered over towards us and we played in the sand with her for a bit. Later on, the three of us were joined by Storm, and we procured one of the boats. We drifted around on the water for a while. 

Later in the afternoon, I started to get tired and wanted out of the sun, so I headed back for my room. 

When I got to my room, I froze in shock at the sight of it. 

Someone had spray-painted a message on the wall. The message read, in all capital letters, DIE AIDS FAGGOTS

************

I'm not sure how long I stood there frozen in shock. I think I recovered pretty quickly, though. I'd seen more shocking and horrible things in my life, by far.

It was just that An'zhina was supposed to be a safe place. No one locked their rooms because we weren't supposed to need to. Everyone on An'zhina had all they needed, so there was no motivation to steal. And no one feared physical harm from anyone else. But I felt the blood draining from me and chills on the back of my neck as I stared at the hateful message on the wall. Did I now have reason to fear?

Once the shock wore off, I started trying to think of what to do next. My first impulse was to call Jean-Paul, but I didn't. (He and I, by the way, still maintained separate rooms though I figured that we would—like we did on Freedom---often sleep in each other's rooms.) I felt an inexplicable urge to protect him from this sight. 

My next instinct then was to find a logical way to determine who had done this. I had a pretty good idea then but I had to be able to prove it. I got an idea.

"Wolverine, it's Bobby. Can you come to my room right away? I need you."

"Be right there," he mumbled in reply to my request on the communicator.

A minute or two later, I heard footsteps behind me. "What's wrong, Bobby?" he asked. I stepped aside the doorway to allow him into the room. "Shit," he said, looking at the graffiti on the wall. 

"I think I know who did this," I said, surprising myself with the calm in my voice, "but I thought I'd ask for your nose to -----"

"Todd," he interrupted, sniffing the air. "Ain't no one been in this room recently 'cept us, Northstar, and Todd."

"Why am I not surprised?" I asked, managing a smile. 

Several things happened after that. Wolverine and I entered Jean-Paul's room, just to make sure that nothing in there was defaced. (Nothing was. I wondered if perhaps Todd had gotten confused regarding which room was mine and which Jean-Paul's. Todd's not too bright.) I called Jean-Paul on the communicator and apprised him of the situation. He zoomed over here and surprised me with his restraint. (I had expected him to seek out Todd and beat the crap out of him. But he didn't.)

"We gotta tell the An'zhina leaders 'bout this," Wolverine said. "Todd is one stupid bastard."

"I should say," Jean-Paul said, sounding disgusted but calm. "He can claim that he did not do it, but Jean or the Professor will be able to detect that he is lying."

I wondered what sort of punishment would be given to Todd, and I really hoped that it would be serious –- and not a mere slap on the wrist. 

*************

Todd soon found himself sitting at a table in a conference room with Jean Grey and Sean Cassidy.

"I didn't do it!" Todd exclaimed. 

"Really?" Jean asked. As one of An'zhina's leaders and a telepath, she had been asked to help facilitate this meeting, despite the fact that she'd only been back on An'zhina since the previous evening. She had also been the facilitator last time Todd had found himself in trouble. "So you are saying that you did not graffiti a message on Bobby's wall?"

"No. I didn't do it," he said, sounding more calm now. "He probably did it himself for sympathy," Todd added, rolling his eyes.

"Todd, are you aware that I can use my powers to detect when someone is lying?" Jean asked.

Banshee spoke up, "Lad, I raised a child and from that experience **I** can tell that you are fibbing, even though I am no telepath." And, Banshee silently addded, Todd was no longer a child but a man in his twenties. 'You wouldna know it from his behavior….'

"If you are speaking the truth, then may I have permission to enter your mind and find out?" Jean asked. Her voice was soothing and soft.

Todd's eyes darted around for a second. He crossed his arms over his chest and replied, "No."

A moment or two passed in silence. Then Jean said, "I just did it anyway." She turned to Banshee. "He's lying. He did it."

"I canna say I am surprised about that," Banshee said. His reply had been quick but it belied the fact that he **was** surprised at Jean's action. Part of him was disbelieving that Jean would actually enter someone's mind without permission. `Well, maybe it does na matter so much. We already knew he was guilty if Wolverine's nose sensed that he had been in Bobby's room,' Banshee rationalized.

"Okay, fine," Todd said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I did do it. Look, I had to find a way to warn people about this. We can't have someone with AIDS roaming around An'zhina! What if we all get infected?"

Jean took a deep breath and explained that the information was not Todd's to share, that the An'zhinans had already been educated on HIV transmission when Lu was sick but would receive formal education again, and that spray painting hateful messages inside people's rooms was not an effective educational tool. Upon seeing Todd's stony gaze, Jean added, "And besides, admit it, Todd. You did it to scare Bobby and Northstar, to intimidate them and maybe even make them want to leave An'zhina. You did it because you fear and loathe gay people." Before he had a chance to answer, she said, "Don't deny it; I was inside your mind!" She then added, "You need to get over it already. An'zhina is not the place for this and I'm sick of your bullshit."

Banshee again felt some surprise at Jean; she sounded angrier than he had ever really observed. However, the situation did pretty much call for it, he told himself. 

"Do you have anything else to say to defend your actions?" Banshee asked.

Todd was quiet for a few seconds. "I just hope that you guys think about this and do something to protect us from HIV. It's a deadly disease that those people spread. Maybe Northstar should be confined to the infirmary or something. I don't want to swim in the same water as him or be around when he coughs or sneezes."

Jean's reply was blunt, to say the least. "Then maybe **you** should confine yourself to your quarters."

***************

Banshee and Jean informed Todd that they would discuss the incident the following day with the An'zhina leadership group (which consisted of, in addition to themselves, the Professor, Moira, and three camp survivors who had been elected representatives – Yunfei, Erica, and Bailey.) They told Todd that the group would come to a decision on the nature of Todd's punishment.

Meanwhile, Todd's deed had more or less achieved one of its desired outcomes. Tongues wagged and word of Jean-Paul's HIV status slowly but surely spread. (Todd himself did most of gossip-spreading, and he knew a few others who loved to talk as well.) Scott and Jean, however, were far less concerned with the state of gossip on An'zhina or even with the task of determining Todd's punishment tomorrow. 

They had a far more pressing issue on their hands.

"Northstar and Bobby are always causing so much trouble," Scott muttered, on the evening of their first full day back on An'zhina. The day had been quite a busy one. In addition to the usual upheaval of getting used to An'zhina again, the two children—especially Charlotte—had been running wild with excitement. She was particularly thrilled to see her grandparents again. However, the incident in Bobby's room had provided a splash to the day.

Jean listened to Scott's words and fought back a harsh reply. She wasn't in the best of moods herself, and wasn't quite up for defending Bobby and Northstar. Part of her truly did not wish to, even though the incident today was hardly their fault and she knew it. Jean sat quietly on the bed, her hands in her lap.

"Do you have any idea what sort of punishment to give Todd?" Scott asked, as he stripped off his clothing and replaced it with a comfortable cotton pair of sweatpants and T-shirt.

"I haven't even really thought about it," Jean sighed. "I'll hear what the other An'zhina leaders have to say tomorrow and we can decide then." 

"Do you want to watch a movie on the vidcam? It might be nice to get our minds off of everything that's been going on," he suggested, as he sat next to her.

Jean was quiet. Scott looked at her. The look in her eyes was one he rarely saw. He saw fatigue…and also some bitterness mixed with resignation. "I guess we can't not talk about it any longer," Scott admitted softly.

Jean nodded. "Are you going to contact Queen Marina tomorrow?"

Scott absentmindedly started rubbing his temples. "I guess I can't put it off any longer. And I can't really back out, since we've already told Bobby."

Jean nodded, looking straight ahead and not at Scott. "I saw Jeanne-Marie this morning when we were both paying our respects to the monument. I haven't seen her looking happier in a long, long time."

"I saw her at breakfast. I don't know if I'd say it is happiness or relief I saw." It had been an awkward moment, though, seeing Jeanne-Marie. He had seen the former Alpha Flight member start towards him, hesitate, and then turn elsewhere. Maybe, he wondered, she had been about to thank him but then questioned whether that would be the right thing to do.

Jean shrugged. "It doesn't matter now, I guess. We have to go through with it." She turned her head and looked at him. "**You** have to go through with it."

"I know," Scott nodded. He then swallowed and said softly, "Jean, you encouraged me to do this. Now it looks like you have second thoughts."

"I do," she admitted. "I won't attempt to hide anything from you." She then made a small smile, "When you have a mindlink with someone, there's no use in trying to hide anything, anyway. You're right. Today I don't feel so great about it. Tomorrow I might feel better…or worse. I expect that both of us will have a lot of different feelings about it as time goes by."

He nodded. "I resent both Bobby and Northstar so much now," he murmured. "Maybe I always have, and this just makes it worse," he acknowledged. "Part of me knows it's wrong, too. Wrong to resent them so much. I mean, if he really did get the disease from the attack by the FOH, then it really isn't his fault. And you did say that Bobby was telling the truth when he said he would do the same thing for us, if our positions were reversed. It probably could have just as easily **been** us." Scott paused and added, "And I keep remembering Lu. Maybe her death could have been prevented if I'd gone along with Marina's request then." He took a breath. "I don't want the feeling of another death on my hands. I've been thinking about that a lot lately."

"Same here," Jean agreed, though with a listlessness to her voice. Both of their voices were hushed even though it was unlikely either of the sleeping children in their room would hear them. "I guess in the face of life and death, my jealousy is very petty of me."

"Jealousy? Jean, my love…" he struggled for words, quite taken aback to hear of her envy. "You know that you have nothing to be jealous of. Nothing at all," he insisted, with passion in his voice. "You once even said it yourself…our relationship is strong, and we can survive this. We will."

Jean slumped against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "We have to," she murmured.

***************

I don't know if Jean-Paul is mellowing out or what. I think it probably has something to do with the illness he has. But he didn't go after Todd and beat him up after what the creep did to my room. He just looked at me and said, apparently mustering some moral resolve, "I'm going to take the high road with this." And that was that. I was impressed.

The day after the incident, I saw the Professor at breakfast. He went up to me and told me that the An'zhina leaders were going to discuss Todd's fate right after the meal. I would've liked to have been a fly on the wall for that meeting, but I knew it wasn't possible so instead I headed off for the gardens and decided to tend to them. I also had a karate lesson with Wolverine, Jubes and Moonstar scheduled for later that morning.

"Is there any word on what's gonna happen to that stupid creep?" Jubilee asked me, when we were finished with the lesson of the day. 

"I haven't heard yet," I said. "But I was just gonna go find the Professor or someone else on the team and ask. It's almost lunchtime and they have to have made their decision by now."

"I vote for us making a jail and tossing Todd in there for a while," Jubilee said. 

I looked at Moonstar and saw her looking at Jubilee, smiling. "I agree, Jubilee."

Moments later, Jean-Paul appeared before us. He could fly so fast that it often looked like he appeared out of nowhere. "I saw the Professor and the others leaving a conference room just now," he said. "Come on. Let us see what they decided."

He picked me up in his arms and off we went. Thanks to Jean-Paul's hyperspeed, we were there quick as a wink. 

***************

It had been a morning full of lively debate for the leadership of An'zhina. This was the first real criminal act that occurred on the moon----a citizen entered someone's room without permission and spray painted a hateful message on their wall. All of the leaders agreed that this was a serious crime and not one to be taken lightly. On this issue, there was concurrence.

However, deciding exactly what to do with the guilty party was not as easy.

One person brought up the idea of asking Todd to return to earth, and bringing him with the X-men on their next trip to the troubled planet. (Assuming that the X-men someday, somehow got more dilithium and were able to return to earth.) However, the consensus was that that punishment was far too harsh. The point was then brought up that they had no written-out criminal code which specified the specific punishment for different offenses. So it was decided to form a team and create such a code. 

Another person had the idea to create a warning system----letting an offender like Todd know that if he did repeat a crime like this one, he could face eventual deportation. This idea was received well and rules regarding "progressive discipline" were to be drafted up as well, so that citizens had a few chances to redeem themselves before facing a serious punishment such as deportation. 

"These are brilliant ideas," the Professor said at one point, "however, we still need to resolve the issue of disciplining Todd in the meantime."

Even more discussion and debate followed. One person did suggest building a jail cell and having Todd serve some time inside of it. However, that idea was also rejected as being too severe for this crime----though it would be considered for any future infractions by Todd. Finally, the group decided on this: a program of community service for Todd combined with placing him on a "probationary period" would be a suitable punishment. The probationary period would involve Todd spending significant time confined to quarters.

"I must confess that I like the idea of Todd confined to his room" Moira said with a smile. "If he is to act like a child, then we can treat him as one."

"I have another thought too," the representative named Bailey said. Bailey was a mutant in his early forties, one of those who had been rescued during the third successful rescue----he had spent time in the camp that Jean's family was being transported to, and where the X-men had been held captive the time that Northstar and Storm were tortured. His easy-going and casual style combined with a striking sincerity and ability to relate to so many people led to him being elected the third of An'zhina's non- X-men leaders. "I think the community service and probationary period thing is cool. But I don't think it's gonna be quite enough, 'cause I think the real problem here is homophobia. Todd does stuff like this 'cause he's a total homophobe. I think this guy's got some education comin' to him. He's gotta learn to like….get over it."

"I think you are right," Moira said. "If we do na address the root cause, the problems with Todd's behavior will continue."

"And it would be nice if we can avoid having to ever build a jail cell or deport Todd," Erica added. "I hope those are last-resorts."

The Professor nodded. The X-men had created several educational workshops and classes for all of the citizens of An'zhina, programs in which the rescued mutants were taught to accept themselves and build their self-confidence. Most of the classes had sections on accepting differences in other people as well. The classes addressed matters such a cooperating with people of different races, sexes, ethnic groups, and different manifestations of their mutantcy. However, the training did not specifically address homophobia. "We need to come up with some training to address this matter," he said. "However, none of us in this room are the experts on this subject either." 

The group discussed it some more and decided upon asking Northstar, Dani Moonstar, and Bobby to help with the construction of this workshop. They also realized that more education regarding HIV and AIDS would be beneficial for all An'zhinians. 

Later on, Bobby and Northstar were pleased to hear the results of the meeting. They particularly liked the idea of Todd having to undergo a workshop addressing homophobia, though neither argued with the idea of Todd forced to perform various menial tasks or spending bouts confined to his room either.

****************

Scott had decided not to put it off any longer. He and Jean discussed it that morning. As Jean headed for the meeting with the other leaders to discuss Todd, and their two children were given to the loving care of their grandparents, Scott walked to a conference room and tried to contact Queen Marina.

The largest conference room inside the compound featured a vast round table which could easily seat all the X-men, with room to spare. The room had windows from floor to ceiling---some of which faced the lush, green outdoors. The communication equipment was housed inside this spacious room. The An'zhina leadership was meeting in a smaller room that morning, so Scott had the room all to himself. 

He walked to the communications relay and punched in a few buttons. He transmitted a text message to Marina, requesting a "live" meeting with her. As he typed, his fingers trembled and his heart rate sped up. 

Scott had not expected an immediate reply; nor did he receive one. A few hours later, a text message was sent to his personal communicator. Marina's schedule was full of engagements that day, but she could speak with him early the following morning. Scott was ordered to be ready in the main conference room at a specific time.

The day passed at an agonizingly slow pace for Scott. 

"Daddy worried," Charlotte stated. "Nervous." Scott found himself reading to the children, sometime during the afternoon. 

"I'm sorry, pumpkin," he said. Although he was on the third different book he'd read to them this afternoon, he had no idea what the previous two books had been about or even the topic of the current one. "Daddy's had a lot on his mind. Don't worry about me, sweetie. I'm okay."

He looked at his timepiece. Several hours more to go until dinnertime. The day continued to move slower than a glacier.

*************

Dani Moonstar walked down the corridor towards her room. It had been such a blissful day. She loved being back on An'zhina and had spent virtually every hour outside. The day got even better when Moira MacTaggert approached her in the afternoon and asked her to put together some thoughts and ideas on teaching people about tolerance for gay men and lesbians. Truth be told, Dani would take working on that sort of thing over a combat session in the Danger Room any day.

Of course the best part of the day had been her interactions with Jubilee, as always. The two had taken little Aurora for a swim, and spent hours frolicking in the water and, later, the sand. An'zhina's water was a shimmering turquoise blue, crystal clear and beautiful. Dani had seen nothing remotely like it before. Jubilee had enjoyed herself, Dani could tell. She smiled, thinking of the woman she loved. Very soon Dani planned to make her interest known.

Later that day, Dani had later joined Panda, Mark, and two other An'zhinians for a late evening walk up the hills. The view of the sunset had been breathtaking. By the time they got back to the main complex, it had been late. Dani hung out with a few of the others in the rec room, sipping drinks with music in the background and talking until the early hours of the morning and Moonstar's yawns told her she needed to get some sleep. She headed back for her room with a smile on her face. She was thinking of Jubilee.

The door slid aside. Dani looked around and dropped the cup of tea she'd been holding, her smile having evaporated.

"What the hell are you doing here??"

Marrow was perched nonchalantly on the edge of the bed. "Thought you'd never get here. Hi, Dani."

Dani's eyes bulged. She knew, as all the X-men did, that the Pirates's ship had been hovering in the vicinity. But as they'd had no official contact with them lately, she was stunned to see Marrow in her room. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dani repeated, incredulous at Marrow's gall. 

"I'm here to see you. I missed you."

Dani's mouth fell wide open. "Missed me? Whaaaat? Uh, Marrow…we spent ten minutes together on board your ship a while ago. What the heck are you talking about??"

Marrow shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out some. Like, if you wanted to ever get together. We could have dinner on board my ship or something. We could work out together. Maybe you could play a song on that flute of yours."

Moonstar blinked several times. She had not been drinking alcohol and knew that this was not some bizarre hallucination. Still, she did not believe a word of what she was hearing. Given the awkwardness of their one previous conversation, Marrow's words didn't register. There had been no chemistry, no sparks between the two of them. What Marrow was saying just didn't make any sense.

"Um, I'm flattered at the offer," Dani managed, "but I think I'll pass. I'm real busy with the X-men now. And I'm not really thrilled that you decided to barge into my room unannounced like this, either."

Marrow offered no apology. She just sat there on the bed. Dani couldn't figure her out. 

"Well, uh, I'm gonna go to bed now," Dani said. "So you wanna move on now…." she said, making a gesturing motion with her arm.

Marrow finally took the hint and stood up. "Okay. Fine. I'll see you later." She tapped her communicator and commanded, "One to beam up." Marrow was then beamed away. 

Moonstar didn't sleep well that night. She'd always thought of An'zhina as such a safe place. But within the span of two days, Bobby's room had been defaced with a hateful graffiti message and now Marrow had beamed herself into Dani's room. `I guess she can beam herself here again at any time,' Dani thought. `Who knows what that crazy chick might do next.' She tried to cut that line of thought off, but the worries kept coming. 

Still, Dani wouldn't tell any of her teammates about the event. She was a little embarrassed by it and although she was good at listening and extracting information from everyone else, Moonstar preferred to keep her own business to herself.

**************

"Well, Scott. It is good to see you. What did you want from me?"

Queen Marina's image gazed calmly back at Scott Summers through the video screen. Out of the side of his visor, Scott saw a few people walking by the outdoor path that one of the conference room's windows opened up against. He hoped that none of them glanced into the conference room and saw him talking with Marina. Gossip seemed to spread at lightening speed on An'zhina. Which made sense, actually --- they had a small population with somewhat limited entertainment sources. All the new social groups that had been formed---the cooking club, "bad art group", sports leagues, etc.---facilitated the spread of gossip even more.

"I wanted to ask you for your help, Queen Marina," Scott replied, looking back at her steadily. To an onlooker, Cyclops appeared calm and collected. "One of the X-men has been diagnosed with HIV." He paused, "You do know what HIV is, right?"

"Yes," Marina replied. The Endarians periodically sent probes to the planet earth, as they found that monitoring the happenings on that troubled world provided a grim yet fascinating form of entertainment. And from keeping abreast of the events on An'zhina, Marina knew that a young woman named Lu had died of AIDS less than a year ago. "I am sorry to hear that one of your people has this virus. Who is it?"

"Northstar." 

Cyclops and Marina both, then, tried to speak at the same time. Scott apologized and deferred to the Queen.

"I suppose you are contacting me to ask for my help," she stated.

"Yes, I am. Jean-Paul will eventually die if no cure if found. I'm sure that you don't want to see one of the X-men die, Queen Marina, as I know you are an admirer of the work the X-men have done." He paused. "Surely you have a way to help us, and I'm asking if you can share your cure with us. Your scientists do have a cure for HIV, don't they?"

Scott fervently hoped the answer would be "no." He doubted that his hope would come true though. But the thought of going through with this insane plan felt no more comfortable to him now than when it was first suggested to him. 

"Yes, they do," Marina answered. Despite not having his hopes up too high, Scott still felt his heart sink just a bit lower. But still….there was one small hope left. Perhaps Marina would feel sympathy for an X-man she would just give them the cure men without asking for any special favors from Scott. "We had an outbreak of a similar—and equally deadly---virus about five- or six hundred years ago," the regent continued. "I am not a scientist but I believe that our cure, with some modifications, should work for Northstar. Your anatomy and physiology is very similar to that of Endarians'."

"Will you help us, then?" Scott asked. 

Marina's eyes lit up and she smiled. As soon as he saw that smile and the devilish glint in her eyes, Scott's last shred of hope withered and died. His heart plummeted to the ground. "You know my price, Scott."

Scott swallowed, though his mouth was dry. "Do you mean it, Marina? Do you really mean that if I don't go through with what you want, you're just going to let Jean-Paul just die?"

Marina shrugged. "I must say that I truly do not understand why this is such a big deal to you, Scott. Most of the galaxy does not practice monogamy as you do. Making love is a wonderful thing and I cannot share your puritan disdain of it."

"I have nothing against **making love**, Queen Marina," he answered, not hiding his anger. "It's something my wife and I do quite frequently. But casual, meaningless sex with someone you don't love ---and when you've made vows to someone else----is another thing entirely."

Marina raised her eyebrows and bit her lip from making a comment. She found Scott Summers adorable when he was angry. "Whatever you say, Cyclops. Irregardless of our difference of opinion in this matter…do you want the cure or not?" she asked, though she did not return his irate tone. 

"Is there any other way….anything else we can do, to get you to provide us with that cure?"

Her answer was pure, simple, and clear. "No."

Once again, they both spoke at the same time. This time, she deferred to him. "What specifically is it you want from me?" he asked. 

"As I said before, I would like for us to spend an evening together. This will include dinner and perhaps an event such as a play or a dance. Then we will return to my palace and make love." 

Scott swallowed again. He spotted something off to the side and turned his head to see a few An'zhinians walking down the same path outdoors. Fortunately they didn't look into the conference room; they seemed oblivious to the turmoil their leader was experiencing.

"Okay," he said. 

Marina's usually steady image across the video screen reflected the shock she felt. "So you agree to this?" she asked, attempting to mask her surprise.

"If you'll provide a cure for Northstar right away, then yes. I'll do it."

The Queen felt that there were few things in life that could amaze her. This, however, was one of those times. Her heart raced at the thought of an evening with Scott. Through the vidcams, she had witnessed Scott and Jean making love many times, wishing that she could be in Jean's place. Now she would have her wish! She smiled. The Queen was used to getting what she wanted and once more, she had it.

"When will we do this?" Scott asked.

"If you will wait a moment, I will find an evening when I am free." She then placed their conversation "on hold." Her image on the screen was replaced with an Endarian emblem. 

Scott paced around the room while he waited for her to return. It was too late to back out now. Not that backing out had ever really been an option. He had briefly entertained notions of lying to Northstar and Bobby, telling them that the Endarians had no cure and would not help. He wasn't sure if his main motivation for not doing so had to do with honor and truth….or whether it was simply because he knew he would not be believed. 

Thoughts careened through his mind. 'How will this impact Jean and I?…..I can't believe I'm doing this for Northstar of all people…..What if others find out?'

Scott eventually stopped pacing and sat down in one of the seats. At least ten minutes had to have passed by now. He was starting to think that it was taking Marina quite a long time to find her appointment book when the screen blipped again to let him know that Marina was back. 

"Thank you for waiting," she said. "My schedule was booked solid for nearly the next _lahar,_" she said. A _lahar _was a period of time equivalent to approximately 23 days. "However, I was able to make some changes to my schedule. I can see you nine days from today. I believe, given the system you are using of giving your days earth names, that would be the following Monday."

Scott nodded. "That's right. That should be okay with me." He took a breath. "So when does Northstar get his cure?"

"On Tuesday," she replied, with a smile.

"I have one more request," Scott began, feeling like a complete whore. He hadn't thought of a subtle way to bring this into the conversation but he had to make this entreaty as well. "We X-men need some dilithium too. Will you provide us with some?"

"Hmmmm," Marina began. She allowed a few seconds to elapse as she thought. She then answered, providing Scott with yet another blow, "I might give you dilithium. It will depend on how well our evening progresses."

************

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated. Please post a review to fanfiction.net or email me at stormkpr@usa.net


	7. Chapter 7

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

************

Jean-Paul and I were sitting on one of the large porch swings in the back of the main complex, just enjoying being outside in this gorgeous place. We had both finished our morning Danger Room sessions and were enjoying a rest. I liked how I felt after a good workout. It was always tough during the exertion but I loved the feeling of energy I had afterwards, and the awareness of my breathing. I sometimes felt after a workout that I could just feel the blood and the energy pumping through me. 

Scott and Jean walked from the building onto the porch, and went right up to us. Their faces were unreadable. We exchanged stiffly polite hellos. Scott then quietly said, "Can we go talk somewhere in a private place?

Maybe I'm a pessimist, but I immediately assumed that something was wrong. As we got up and walked towards one of the meeting rooms, a bunch of thoughts careened through my mind. The most prevalent one, though, was the idea that perhaps Scott was deciding to back out and not ask the Queen. We didn't talk as we walked, and I sneaked a glance at both Scott and Jean quickly. This time all I could say about their facial expressions was that neither looked happy.

We entered a room, Scott closed the door behind us, and we sat down around the table. Obviously there was no need for small talk, so Scott just jumped right into it. "I spoke with Queen Marina this morning. She said she will provide a cure for you, Northstar. She's agreed to it in exchange for….what we talked about earlier."

I was so surprised and so elated that I don't really recall all of what happened next. Just a few bits and pieces. I remember Jean-Paul looking a bit shocked and a bit like a man who just received a reprieve of his death sentence. I remember him thanking Scott (and Jean) profusely, and me doing the same. I remember the awkwardness of it all and me thinking that things would never be the same between me and Scott and Jean. Not that things had ever been all that good between me and Scott. But Jean and I had been friends. Looking at her, though, I wondered if it was all over. I don't know. They weren't pleased with what Scott had to do, obviously. 

Scott and Jean said Jean-Paul would go to the Endarians on next Tuesday for the cure. I recalled calculating in my head that that was ten days away. Scott then said, "I think we should tell Hank and Moira that they can stop working on a cure, if they want to."

I remembered nodding in response and saying, "Poor Hank's been at it constantly. He needs a break."

"I'll tell them," Scott said. He started to sit up, as if to leave, but then sat back down. He said, "Like I said before, I want this kept quiet. I'm not going to tell Hank **how** we're going about getting a cure."

"I think it is a good idea to keep it quiet," Jean-Paul said. "Especially until I am actually cured." He paused. "May I tell my sister now? I at least want her to know that I will be getting cured."

"Of course."

Jean looked at us. "What do we do once you are cured?" She then looked at her husband. "I mean, once he's cured, people will to wonder why."

Scott nodded, his gaze in Jean-Paul's direction. "By now, it seems that half the people on this moon know….know about your HIV status."

"Yep," I said, "thanks to Todd." I was sure, at that point, that not half but **all** of the An'zhinians knew. "I'd sure like to know how the hell he found out about it," I added. 

Jean-Paul and I had mulled over that question many times. We couldn't really imagine that any of our fellow X-men would break our confidence like this and blab to Todd, of all people. But there were a few possible explanations we came up with. One possibility: Hank and Moira had a few medical assistants in the lab---in addition to Panda and Hector, on An'zhina there was a young man named Ramon, there was Colossus's former girlfriend Elena, and maybe a few others. Perhaps one of them saw what they were working on and drew a few conclusions. 

Or maybe the explanation was as innocuous as Todd having overheard someone discussing the matter.

There was one other possibility that gave me pause. I hated to contemplate it, but I had to. Were the X-men really as tight as I wished we were? I mean, maybe there were a few X-men who didn't like Jean-Paul or I so much and didn't care if the secret got out. There were some X-men I simply didn't know as well, some who I wasn't as close with. Like, how well did I really know Cannonball or Hector? And Mark wasn't an X-man but he had been on board Freedom with us and he knew that Jean-Paul had HIV. I didn't really think that Mark was the gossiping type----but who really knew?

Last time we ruminated over it, Jean-Paul shared this theory with me. He felt it was simply a matter of the grapevine at work. He said that perhaps Moira and Banshee mentioned it to their daughter Siryn, and that she let the secret out. Or that maybe it was someone in Jean Grey's family….Jean must have told her parents and sister, and then they maybe told Gail and Joe. So perhaps one of the youngsters spilled the beans. Or it could've been good old Warren Worthington. If Jean had shared the secret with her family, then her sister Sara knew, and if Sara knew, certainly she'd told her boyfriend. Warren and I had never liked each other and I think he's a not-so-closeted homophobe, so it would make sense that he could've been spreading the word. It even could've been Shaman telling his wife and daughter, and one of them mentioning it to others. 

"Or it could've been all of the above," I'd added, when he spoke about this. 

But anyway, I'm digressing from our meeting with Scott and Jean. Scott basically decided that we wouldn't, at this point, tell anyone the how and why of the Endarians curing Jean-Paul. We'd just keep it quiet for now (except for telling Hank and Moira, obviously) and then maybe after Jean-Paul was cured, tell the other X-men that the Endarians had granted us a cure. 

"Other than Jeanne-Marie and Hank, I want this kept quiet," Scott said. "It's embarrassing enough as it is." He looked at me and spoke with intensity, "And I mean it, Bobby. I don't want you going off and telling Rogue and Gambit and Jubilee and Dani Moonstar. Keep this quiet." He particularly emphasized that last sentence, saying each of the three short words slowly. 

His voice had been harsh and biting. But could I blame him? He and Jean were making a tremendous personal sacrifice to save Jean-Paul's life. And I had been the one to beg them to do this. "I understand, Scott. I will be quiet." Damn. I was just going to have to avoid seeing all those people he named for ten days. Wow. Not an easy task at all. Maybe Jean-Paul and I could fly to the other end of the moon and bunk up in the cabin where Rogue and Gambit had spent their honeymoon.

***************

An exceptionally beautiful day was smiling on An'zhina. The weather on the moon rarely wasn't idyllic but this day was particularly stunning. Along with the usual warm (but not overly hot or humid) temperatures and sunny skies, various hues of pink and red were streaking across the sky. The vibrant colors stood out against the fluffy clouds.

"What is that?" Sam Guthrie asked Hector Rendoza, gesturing up at the skies, as the two young men took their lunch trays outside. They were making their way towards one of the picnic tables behind the main complex, to enjoy their meal outside.

"Those bright colors in the sky?" Wraith asked. "Beast explained it to me once. Some sort of natural phenomenon he read about here. I didn't understand a word of his explanation though. That guy's just too brilliant."

"Hey, speaking of Hank---look who's over there." 

Sam gestured at a picnic table which was occupied by none other than Beast and Panda. Upon spotting them, Sam thought they two would want their privacy but Hank had happened to look up and catch Sam's eye. He waved the two of them over.

"Now who the heck let you out of the lab?" Sam joked. "I can't believe you're not working away right now."

Sam and Hector set their trays down at the table, and took their places with Panda and Hank. "It does feel good to be outside, experiencing the fresh air," Hank admitted.

Panda smiled at Sam and Hector, and then silently berated herself for her anger at the intrusion. She could scarcely remember the last time that she and Hank had been able to enjoy some time alone. Of course, they did choose to sit outdoors where many others were enjoying their lunches too, but still. She vowed that tonight she and Hank would have dinner in their quarters, alone and uninterrupted.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to take a break," Hector said. "You sure deserve it."

Hank smiled and nodded. He wasn't quite sure how to reply. That morning, Jean Grey had entered the infirmary and informed Hank that Queen Marina had agreed to look into getting Northstar cured, and that in all likelihood that cure would be ready in a matter of weeks. Jean had been fuzzy on the specifics but Hank's overtired mind was too weary to argue with her. He agreed to take a break. He knew he needed to, as he had been grossly neglecting his wife. 

The group was quiet for a bit as they set about eating their lunches. "I can't imagine celebrating Christmas in all this heat and without any snow," Hector said.

Panda furrowed her brow. "Where did that come from?" she asked. She'd missed whatever train of thought had gotten Wraith on to talking about a holiday back on earth.

"Oh, didn't you see the announcement on the bulletin board? The group decided to celebrate Christmas. They picked a date like four weeks from now to do it." He added wryly, "_Felice Navidad_."

"`Cept we ain't supposed to call it 'Christmas'," Sam reminded Hector. "It's bein' called The Holiday instead 'cause a lot of people here ain't Christian." 

"Oh yeah….I remember there being talk about celebrating Christmas—or another holiday like it," Panda said. "I think it's a good idea, if for no other reason than the children." She instinctively looked down at and then patted her pregnant belly.

"Speakin' of which, how's the little one?" Sam asked, his eyes following Panda's hand gesture.

"Everything's going well. I still feel fine, and the latest ultrasound showed that everything is basically looking normal and healthy."

"Rob is due to arrive in approximately 11-12 weeks," Hank added, using the appellation he and Panda had agreed upon for their son. As they had announced to the other X-men, he would be named after Bobby Drake. However Panda had suggested to Hank that to avoid confusion, the child be called Rob. (And she had insisted upon "Rob", rather than a diminutive such as "Robbie.")

"Hey, back to talking about Christmas—or The Holiday," Panda began, "I also remember there being talk about celebrating some other holidays from earth. Have you heard anything about that?"

"Oh yeah," Hector said, "the bulletin board also said we'd be celebrating Parents' Day – they combined Mothers' and Fathers' Day – and celebrating Valentine's Day. I don't remember when, but it wasn't anytime soon."

"Valentine's Day, eh?" Panda asked, raising her eyebrows and turning to face Hank. He returned her look and reached to hold one of her hands. 

"What a splendid idea, to revive that holiday," Hank said.

Panda nodded her agreement, her heart longing for the days when Hank would leave love notes and handwritten poetry under her door. Those days were but a fond memory. 

The conversation eventually drifted. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam spotted Todd working away. As part of his punishment for the graffiti in Bobby's room, he was performing "community service." Todd held a tub and was collecting people's trays, plates, and silverware. He was also disposing of their garbage. 

"Well, I'm glad that Todd's finally doing something useful," Panda smirked, following the direction of Sam's gaze.

"I can't believe what that _pendejo _did," Hector muttered. "You can't just go into someone's room like that."

"How's Bobby doing?" Sam asked. "I mean, are he and Northstar pretty freaked out over it?"

"I do not know," Hank said. "I have not been able to spend as much time with my friend as I would like." He spoke the truth; he missed Bobby. Bobby had been nowhere in sight during the morning when Hank had been reprieved of spending all hours in the lab. And though Hank greatly looked forward to spending some one-on-one time with his best friend, he knew that he had been neglecting Panda and that his duty to her had to come first. 

"I saw him and Northstar yesterday—I worked on the garden with them for a bit," Hector said. "They seemed just fine." He paused. "Wolverine came by for a little too. He ate a tomato off the vine. Said it's way better than anything the food replicators make."

"Poor Wolverine," Panda murmured, shaking her head. "He is so restless. You can tell he just wants to get back in that starship and return to earth."

"He requires more action," Hank observed, "and the ability to make a difference for the mutants back on earth."

"So when we ever gonna head back for earth?" Cannonball asked. He missed his parents and sister greatly. 

"Well, you heard the results of the X-men leadership's last meeting," Panda said. All the X-men were debriefed, of course, following the team leader meetings. "We don't have enough dilithium to go anywhere. Unless someone gives us some, we're stuck." She spoke the truth. To Panda it also seemed that, with the exception of Wolverine, the X-men were content to remain on An'zhina and take a break for the time being. She had to admit that she herself preferred it here as well.

"Space is cold. And huge and unfriendly," Sam murmured, echoing her thoughts. "I can see why no one's banging down the door to think of way to get back out there." In a way, he wasn't either. He knew, from talking to all of the X-men and hearing of their adventures prior to when he joined the team, that each time you ventured out into space, you ran a huge risk. As much as he wanted to see his family again, travelling through space would never be easy or natural for him.

"And what was with that place we got the last bit of dilithium from?" Wraith asked. "It just was creepy. Rogue and Gambit coming back looking so dazed, some powerful guy that Jean couldn't even sense, and then us leaving a shuttle back there." He shook his head. "Feels like a weird dream to me now."

"If and when we do acquire more dilithium, we must return to that planet," Hank said. "Although we were desperate at the time, I fear that leaving a shuttle from earth in their hands may have been a grave error."

************

One afternoon, Wolverine was conducting one of his martial arts classes. As always, his student body consisted of Jubilee, Dani Moonstar, and Bobby. Dani was showing a great deal of potential and, although a beginner, progressing rapidly. Jubilee and Bobby were already at a level of proficiency.

Wolverine sat back and watched Bobby perform the moves. The younger man had come so far and improved so much, but Wolverine still saw room for improvement. He wanted Bobby to be able to do well. He wanted Bobby strong, able to defend himself. He went up to Bobby and instructed him some more, correcting his form. Logan's voice was firm and demanding, but not without a hint of kindness either.

During the past several days, Logan's mind had been bringing up old memories. They were memories of the most unpleasant sort, ones which he would almost prefer were locked away. Although decades of his past were forever lost to him, there were periods of time that Logan remembered more clearly --- years prior to Weapon X. 

Most of all, he remembered the concentration camps. He could not drive them out of his memory. The emaciated bodies; the men, women and children; the shaved heads; the hollow eyes; the stench of burned flesh. "Are those **people**?" one of his fellow soldiers, a young man no older than 18, had asked incredulously. They had known to expect the worst when they reached the camps, but never in his most ghastly nightmare had he imagined it would be this horrifying. There simply were no words to describe it. Those images were forever branded into Logan's mind. The fact that he and his fellow soldiers had successfully liberated the camp provided little solace. He had dim memories of loading the survivors onto trucks and trains, providing them with food and medical care. 

Logan remembered one other thing from that day. Not all of the concentration camp survivors were rescued. One barrack housed about 150 men, and they all had pink triangles on their uniforms. Logan heard his superior say that those with the pink triangles were "queer." The decision was made to leave those 150 behind. Leave them behind to, apparently, starve to death and waste away in the soon-to-be abandoned concentration camp. "We'll let them serve out the rest of their sentence," the officer had said.

Logan never questioned that order.

He wanted Bobby to be strong, to be able to fight and protect himself without relying on his mutant powers. He would work with Bobby as much as possible. Logan wanted an end to his own guilt too. 

**************

"You are a woman of many talents," Dani Moonstar remarked to Jubilee one day. They had just finished up a music lesson which took place inside Moonstar's room. Little Aurora was being babysat by one of the other X-men.

"Ya think so?" Jubilee asked, sounding skeptical. The two friends were sitting side by side on the bed.

"Yeah! You're learning to play flute very well, you've impressed **Wolverine** with how much you can do in karate, you kick butt in the Danger Room, and on top of that, you're a mother too."

Jubilee listened to the words but, as so many people did, she allowed the compliments to bounce off of her. None of them got through. "I don't know that I'm doing such a hot job at motherhood," she muttered. 

"Are you kidding? I think you're doing an amazing job raising Aurora by herself. She's a bright little kid, talkative, playful…."

"Well, I can't say I'm exactly raising her by myself. All the others have been pitching in since the get-go." What Jubilee said was true. The X-men had all remained faithful to their promise of assisting Jubilee with the difficult work of parenthood. If she needed a few hours to pursue her hobbies or just to rest, she simply called one of the others, and they temporarily would take over parental duties. The system worked well for everyone, and allowed Jubilee her free time and her sanity. Aurora had no complaints either; she loved her aunts and uncles though "Mommy" was clearly her favorite.

"Well, yeah, that's the way it should be," Dani said. "What was that saying….`It takes a village to raise a child' or something like that?"

Jubilee absentmindedly nodded as she reached to place her flute back inside of its case. Dani watched her, trying to suppress the look of awe in her eyes. She loved looking at Jubilee's petite little hands, so small and yet—as she'd witnessed many times---so strong. It took every fiber of restraint in Dani's body to keep from taking one of those hands and kissing it.

Before their music session today, Moonstar had spent a lot of time surveying her own appearance in the mirror. She wished that she were prettier. `The lips are too thin and the mouth just too small for the face,' Dani had thought. `A few teeth are crooked and I need more of a chin. My eyes are too close together and too small.' She knew that she was not as pretty as the other X-women and never would be, and the realization stung her.

"Hey, Dani," Jubilee began quietly, "I got something to tell you."

Moonstar's heart stopped. She fought to contain her excitement. `It is true, then,' she thought. 'She feels the same way I do!' 

"I've never told anyone this before," Jubilee said. She took a deep breath. "Sometimes I wish I'd had an abortion." She turned her head and looked at Dani. "I know, I know. That sounds horrible, doesn't it?"

"No….no, not at all," Dani answered, trying to simultaneously mask her disappointment and sound reassuring. "I'm sure it's way normal for any woman who'd been in your position to feel that way."

"It's not that I don't love her," Jubilee insisted. "I do. I love Rory very much----more than anyone in my life. Really. But I think back to the state of mind I was in when I was pregnant and everything I was going through. In some ways, I really wanted an abortion. Storm was the first person I ever told that I was pregnant and she and I discussed it. She even seemed to be leaning towards me doing it. But the conditions we were in….living on the starship, Hank was the only doctor and I really remember feeling weird about the idea of asking him to do an abortion. I didn't want to ask him to do it. And partly, I didn't want to deal with the fact that I was pregnant. So I just went ahead and said I was gonna have the baby."

"Do you think that…that, if you had been back on earth and living under more normal circumstances that you might've had an abortion?" Dani quietly asked.

Jubilee was silent for a moment. Then, her gaze towards the floor, she slowly nodded. "And see, when I admit this to myself, I feel awful. I feel terrible. And like I said, I love Aurora. But there are some times when I think about my life and I think that maybe having her was not the best thing to do."

Dani nodded. "And you know that she is a living reminder of what happened to you. Of what her father---whichever FOH asshole he was----did to you, and to the others."

Jubilee rested her head on one hand. "Yeah. That's the worst part. It's almost like I gotta be reminded of it every day. Those horrible days which were the worst of my life----like a stay in hell itself. Sometimes I think I'm so over that but I look at her and I realize that I'm not. And people ask stuff too, which doesn't help." Jubilee went on to describe an encounter she had with one of the women who had been rescued during the X-men's third successful camp liberation. "The other day I sat next to Megan in the rec room, and she asked me about Rory's dad. I was gonna tell her the truth but I suddenly felt like I just didn't want to----I didn't wanna go through it all again and hear someone say the usual cliches about being sorry and such. So I just said that Rory's dad was dead and that was that. And now Aurora's old enough to start wondering and asking about her father. I don't wanna face that. I don't wanna have that discussion with her." Jubilee stopped and shook her head. "I love her," she repeated, "I really do."

Jubilee was then quiet for several moments. Dani reached and reached to hold one of her friend's hands. Jubilee accepted the hand easily. "Thank you for opening up to me," Moonstar said. "I am honored that you chose to confide in me."

"I haven't told **anyone** this. Not Bobby or Storm --- or even Wolvie. So please don't say anything about this. Sometimes I think they'd like be disappointed in me or something---I guess that's irrational but I dunno. But I feel like I can tell you stuff though."

"I promise not to break your confidence. I won't say a word of this to anyone. And Jubilee, I really think that your feelings about this are natural and normal. Please don't beat yourself up about this." She paused. "And I want you to know that I'm here to support you and be with you whenever you need it. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be there for you always. I care about you a great deal."

Jubilee gave Dani's hand a small squeeze. She looked at Dani's brown eyes and murmured, "Thank you." Finally voicing this out loud to another human being had helped her tremendously and she felt as if a weight had lifted off her chest. A combination of relief and warmth coursed through her veins. She couldn't help but to smile at Moonstar. Jubilee felt so lucky to have such a friend.

And then Dani's feelings for Jubilee overflowed and she found herself infused with courage. The look in Jubilee's eyes, the squeeze of the hand she gave, and the fact that she chose to confide in her above all the others she was close to had to signify something. Dani slowly learned forward and gently pressed her lips against Jubilee's. 

The spellbinding mood was broken as Jubilee jumped back. Shock and disgust were written on her face. "Dani!" she screeched. There was another look on Jubilee's face, too. Betrayal.

The color drained from Dani's skin. She had made a calculated risk and, apparently, bombed out. She looked at her friend and saw the hurt written on her face. Dani's heart plummeted. "Jubilee…I'm so sorry," she managed. "I—I'm really really sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Jubilee scrambled to her feet. Dani sank her head into her hands, not being able to withstand the look on Jubilee's face. "I'm so sorry," Moonstar repeated, her voice muffled by her hands. "I'm such an idiot."

Jubilee looked as if she were going to say something, but instead she bolted from the room, leaving her flute behind. Dani was so mortified that she didn't even consider going after her.

*************

"Joe, don't just drop that on the ground!" Jean Grey snapped at her nephew. Jean, along with her parents, niece Gail, nephew Joe, and Shaman's daughter Lily Pearl had decided to have a picnic on one of the hills that afternoon. The group was cleaning up and preparing to descend the hills when Jean noticed that Joe deliberately dropped some of his garbage onto the ground while most of the others had their backs turned. "The last thing we need to do is turn An'zhina into a garbage dump like earth. Would you be more considerate??"

"Sorry, Aunt Jean," a chagrined Joe mumbled as he picked up the litter he had carelessly tossed. He'd never heard his usually kind and gentle Aunt sounding so angry. 

"Your Aunt is right," John Grey softly said to his grandson. "We have to all make an effort to keep An'zhina the beautiful place that it is." He knew that Jean had every right to be angry; it was indeed wrong of Joe to litter. However, John noticed that his elder daughter had been uncharacteristically irritable during their entire picnic. 

"I said I was sorry," Joe repeated. He didn't get what the big deal was. He knew that Todd was assigned to clean-up and rationalized that Todd would have picked up the garbage sooner or later.

The family then slowly descended the hills. As John and Elaine were no longer young, the group had selected a very smooth portion of the hills with a well-defined trail. They also had not ascended very high. Still, John and Elaine walked slowly and carefully, each assisted by a walking staff. 

Elaine noticed that Jean was not attempting to slow her stride; she walked on ahead of the group. "Jean, honey, what's the hurry?" Elaine asked. "Are you running off to a mission?" she asked, trying to add in some levity. She, too, had observed Jean unusually –almost shockingly---cranky today. Jean's normal temperament had always been calm and pleasant.

"I have to feed Christopher," she said, calling over her shoulder. 

"The world is not going to end if his feeding is a little late," Elaine answered. 

Jean sighed and slowed her pace so that she fell in line with the rest of the group. Elaine even thought she heard Jean mutter "Okay" under her breath.

"Christopher is such a cute little boy," Lily Pearl began, trying to diffuse some of the tension she sensed. "I bet he and Panda's son will be friends." Upon seeing Jean nod and appear more placid, Lily Pearl continued. "I think it's so nice that Hank and Panda are naming their kid after Bobby. Is Christopher named after anyone?"

Jean nodded and responded, "He's named after Scott's dad." There was a moment of silence and then Jean's eyes bulged. She turned to face her father. "I had no idea that you were jealous that we didn't name either of the kids after you!"

John Grey stopped in his tracks. "I didn't say anything, dear," he said curtly, his voice belying his surprise. He truly was stunned. Jean must have been reading his mind! John had indeed been thinking of that, right at that very moment. He was jealous that both of Jean's children were named for people outside of the Grey family. Charlotte had been named for Charles Xavier and then Christopher for Scott's dad. Why had no one thought to name either child after Jean's parents? John had some hurt feelings over this, though he had never vocalized them to anyone except his wife (who shared his feelings on this matter.) 

"Yeah, but----" Jean broke off. "Oh," she mumbled. She realized that she had been reading her father's mind. This was not the first unauthorized foray into the thoughts of another she had taken, but this time she had been caught. "I'm sorry, Dad," she quietly said. 

Elaine, who avoided conflict at all costs, quickly found a topic to seize on and change the subject with. Jean was only too glad when their walk down the hill was over.

She then located Scott with their kids in the play room. (An'zhina had a play room for the children.) After feeding Christopher, she put the boy down for a nap. Finding themselves the only ones in the play room, Jean and Scott sat back and observed as Charlotte picked up markers and crayons and drew various images on one of the easels in the room.

"I'm trying to hold it all in," Scott whispered, "so she doesn't notice what I'm feeling."

Jean reached for one of Scott's hands and held it. She spoke reassuringly about him having and expressing his feelings---his anger, guilt, anxiety. He poured out each of those emotions to her. Jean comforted him, choking back her own feelings. 

Meanwhile, Charlotte pressed the crayons into the paper, drawing furiously. She experienced her parents' emotions but had been told enough times not to broadcast other people's mental states. She knew she would be gently, but firmly, rebuked if she vocalized either of her parents' dismay. Charlotte sensed that her parents didn't want to speak of this so she, too, squelched all the unpleasantness in her head.

***************

"Bobby, gay people shouldn't hit on straight people!"

"Okay. I'll stop puttin' the moves on Wolverine," I vowed. I had no idea what caused Jubilee's outburst. She'd asked if I wanted to watch a movie on the vidcam with her, so we sat in her room and did so, eating our dinner of pizza together. (Jean-Paul had graciously offered to babysit Rory, and was with her now. I knew that Jean-Paul liked for us to spend some time apart and I was now fine with that.)

"Very funny," Jubilee muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"So….is there like a reason why you're bringing this up? Did you want me to take your complaint to all other gay people in the universe and share it with them when we're hanging out in our tree house? And if this works both ways, will you tell your fellow straight people to stop calling us 'faggots' or spray painting crap on our walls?"

"I know I can always count on your weird sense of humor," she said, rolling her eyes.

I reached for the remote control device and paused the movie. (It was a good one and I didn't want to miss any of it!) "Jubilee, what's up?" I asked, switching to my serious side. "I get the idea you're pissed about something."

Jubilee then clamed up and acted like she didn't want to tell me anything. I knew that she really did want to tell me but she didn't want to just blurt it out. She wanted me to extract the information from her, so I pried and pulled until she told me what was on her mind. When she finally told me, I was quite shocked.

"Dani kissed me the other day." She paused. "Yuck."

"Dani Moonstar? Really? I can't believe it. She kissed you?" I paused. Disgust was written all over Jubilee's face. "So, I take it that you like didn't initiate anything?"

"No! I'm not gay. I mean, sheesh, I have nothing against it, you know. But I sure don't want to be kissing other girls myself. I'm like not in the least bit attracted to other women." 

I shook my head, bewildered that Moonstar would misread whatever situation the two women had been in so badly. Surely she knew that Jubilee wasn't gay. Was she hoping she could convert her? Dani had, a while ago, confided in me her crush on one of the other X-women, without telling me who it was. I'd never been able to pry out any more information on that, but now I had my answer. With Dani, I think that the saying 'still waters run deep' held true. I bet she really had it bad for Jubilee----or else she wouldn't have kissed her. "That must've felt pretty weird, huh?"

"Yeah! It really did. I'm still grossed out by it." She then quickly added, "Not that I find homosexuality gross or anything, I just mean it's like not for me."

I nodded. "I understand you," I responded. I knew that Jubilee was telling the truth. I also felt really bad for Dani, though, and I wondered if their friendship would recover. "Has Dani apologized?"

"No. I haven't seen her since then. I don't wanna even look at her now, really."

"When did this happen?"

"Two days ago. I'm just like still so grossed out about it. I can't believe she'd do this." 

Jubilee then went on for quite a bit. I listened to her intently, though I was dying to hear Dan's side of the story too. Why on earth had she done it and how could someone as perceptive as Dani been so wrong? Jubilee mostly spoke of feeling betrayed and angry and uncomfortable. She also bemoaned the fact that so many others were in successful relationships but "I just don't seem to have any damn luck in this area!" I bet she was also mourning the possible loss of a close friendship too. 

When she was finished talking, Jubilee asked me to please not tell anyone. "I'd just feel kinda funny telling Storm or Wolvie or anyone about this, you know? I mean, I'm pissed at Dani but I don't wanna come off like…like, I dunno that I'm ripping on her. Even though I am really pissed at her." I thought that Jubilee was a bit embarrassed, too, to have had another girl hit on her.

"I understand," I said. "I'll keep this quiet."

We eventually went back to watching the movie. Later on, Jubilee asked me about Hank. "What's the deal? I saw him outside of the lab several times in the last few days. I mean," she added, "I'm glad he's like taking a break and all, but that ain't like him."

I shrugged and desperately hoped that Jubilee wouldn't detect that I knew a lot more than I was letting on. "I bet Panda's threatened to divorce him if he doesn't spend more time with her! He can't keep spending 16 hours a day in the lab, Jubes. If he gets burned out, it's not gonna help anyone."

"Yeah, I know. It's just not like him though---he's always worked crazy hours before when he wanted an answer to something."

"Well, what's changed is that he's now a husband, and a soon-to-be father, too." I desperately struggled to change the topic. "Panda's due in about 11 weeks now, I guess. I bet she and Hank will be great parents. I wonder how the other kids will react."  
  
"Yeah," Jubilee said, sounding a bit far away; her thoughts were still obviously on Hank's unusual behavior. "Bobby, do you resent that he's not working harder on finding a cure for Northstar?"

"No, no, not at all," I insisted. "Like I said, he needs a rest every now and then, and it's not gonna do any good if he collapses from too much work. Besides, Jean-Paul's strong and healthy and he might stay healthy for years and years. We've got time to find a cure." 

My answer this time was truthful. **Of course** I didn't resent Hank. The real question was—would he resent **me** when he found out the whole truth? 

**************

The day after my movie with Jubilee, I sought out Dani Moonstar to ask her what happened. It wasn't that I wanted to gossip or anything like that, but I wanted to see how she was doing since I knew that her heart had to be broken. I doubt that Moonstar would've tried to kiss Jubilee if she didn't really **really** care about her. 

Dani was clearly depressed and she basically blew me off. I asked her if she wanted to talk about whatever was bothering her, and she answered with a curt "no." Later in the day, I heard her playing her flute outdoors, and the song was a very melancholy one. I listened for half a minute or so and I actually felt a lump forming in my throat.

At the next scheduled karate session, neither Jubilee nor Dani showed. So Wolverine and I forged ahead without them. At the following day's lesson, Jubilee appeared but Dani did not. "What's goin' on with you and Moonstar?" I heard Wolverine ask.

"We had a falling out," Jubilee calmly replied. I'm sure she anticipated the fact that Wolverine would not probe for details if he sensed that she didn't want him to. And, as far as I know, he fulfilled her expectations by not probing. Wolverine seemed to realize that Jubilee was going to be alright and apparently left it at that. 

*************

"Charles, what do you think is wrong with Scott?"

Moira MacTaggert posed the question to Charles Xavier one morning during breakfast. The two continued their morning ritual of eating breakfast together. The early birds selected a picnic table on one of the main building's back porches, and they watched the radiant Endarian sun rise as they lingered over tea, bagels with thick cream cheese, and fresh fruit. Because Moira's husband did not enjoy getting out of bed early, he never joined them for their first repast of the day.

"I don't know," Charles admitted. "I can tell that both he and Jean are experiencing some turmoil. I tried to talk about it with Scott yesterday but he did not want to discuss it. I have to respect that."

"I am sure that Scott and Jean can work through whatever is bothering them," Moira said, though once the words fell from her lips, she thought they sounded hollow. 

"If either one of them wants to confide in me, I have told them that I am here for them."

"I am sure that you canna do anything more than that." Moira took a sip of her tea and tilted her head to get a better view of the sunrise. "Magnificent, isn't it?"

Charles nodded. "Indeed."

Moira looked at him and saw the far away gaze in his eyes. The brilliance of the sun and the beauty of An'zhina meant little to the Professor now, she understood. Thousands of mutants back on earth were suffering, and there was not a one thing Xavier could do about it now. `He never will be totally happy until that situation changes,' Moira thought. She realized how much she adored the comfort of An'zhina, how little she had any desire to ever leave. Simultaneously, the fact that Charles was not happy tore at Moira.

"If we ever do acquire more dilithium, do you think you will go on the next mission to earth?" she asked him.

"I don't know, Moira. Right now, I think the possibility of us suddenly gaining the dilithium we need is remote. I suppose my answer will depend on whatever Jean and Scott decide, as we will need a telepath for the mission." He paused, and added, "That is, if we ever are able to venture into space again."

*************

"Hey, y'all ----guess what? I got a date!"

Sam Guthrie usually didn't attempt to hide his feelings too much. He had a genuine down-to-earth sweetness about himself, Hector had observed. And this afternoon, there was apparently no chance of him keeping a lid on his excitement.

"A date? Alright! So….who's it with?" Mark asked. The three men --- Sam, Hector, and Mark --- frequently "hung out" together and were walking towards one of the playing courts for a game of volleyball. They had all decided to join the An'zhinian volleyball league.

"Jubilee!" Sam said. Again, there was no attempt to mask the excitement and joy he felt. Nor did it occur to Sam that his buddies might be a tad jealous.

"A fellow X-man," Hector observed. "X-woman. _Excellente_!" For reasons Hector couldn't fully articulate, he felt there was truly more prestige in dating another X-man as opposed to a regular An'zhinian.

"I know," Sam grinned.

"So what happened, hombre? Did you finally ask her out or did she ask you out?" Hector was not at all surprised about this; the two had discussed the possibility of Sam dating Jubilee before. 

Sam shrugged. "She asked me out. She asked me today, after our Danger Room session."

"When are you gonna get together?" Mark asked. He had to ask and was not embarrassed to display his interest in the subject. Nor was Hector. Both Mark and Hector were basically out of the dating scene---for different reasons---which made Sam's dating life all the more interesting to them.

"And what are you going to do?" Hector asked.

"We decided to have dinner alone together, maybe do a picnic in the hills," Sam replied. The days now were long; it would still be light at dinnertime. "Afterwards we think maybe we'll join Agata's class. Neither of us have been in the class before but Agata said it's open to everyone, even beginners."

"So this Kentucky boy is gonna try his hand at _salsa_," Hector observed, smirking at the very thought. He harbored a secret wish to go salsa dancing, but he dared not step foot inside one of Agata's classes---despite the fact that he heard they always had more females than males at these lessons. Hector would pity the woman who ended up with him as a dance partner. He had no desire to put someone else, or himself, through that. 

"Are you sure you wanna go dancing on a first date?" Mark asked. "I mean, it could be a little awkward, especially if you're not good dancers." Mark used to have several girlfriends; he was not a novice to courtship. 

"It's just an idea," Sam said, sounding confident, "and I can dance okay. But we might go swimming instead or join up with the Bad Art group---they have a meeting tonight. I sucked at Art Class in school, but this group is supposed to be real loose and you can make a piece of junk if you want. There's a heck of a lot of stuff to do here now," he added. 

"You could watch a movie on a vidcam together," Hector suggested.

"Nah. That ain't always a good idea on a first date," Sam responded. "Hey, we're allowed to pick those flowers that are growing near the forest, right? I wanna give her a little bouquet." 

The guys reached the volleyball court and prepared for their game.

*************

****

TO BE CONTINUED

Coming up….Scott's rendezvous with Queen Marina and much more!

Author's notes:

****

First, as many of you know, fanfiction.net has vowed to remove all fics rated NC-17. They plan to take them all down forever, starting October 12th. Please consider signing the petition to ask them to change their policy at:

http://www.petitiononline.com/KEEPNC17/petition.html

If the petition is not successful, then don't despair. I might try to return to fanfiction.net with a toned-down rating. And you can still read my fics at Leigh's Fiction. The URL is:

http://geocities.com/loopeleigh/

****

A quick note on the World War II flashback that Wolverine had:

That section about homosexuals being imprisoned in concentration camps by the Nazis is an historical fact (despite the fact that many history text books don't mention it…I never learned about it when I studied WWII in high school or college.) For more info, see these links:. 

http://www.thepinktriangle.com/history.html

http://www.cygnus.uwa.edu.au/~zeddicus/pinktria.html

http://www.datalounge.com/datalounge/news/record.html?record=3866

http://www.sbu.ac.uk/stafflag/pinktriangle.html

****

I still welcome any and all feedback. Please email me at stormkpr@usa.net (since I cannot upload this—or any other chapter---to fanfiction.net due to the NC17 rating of my overall fic.)

Finally, if you want to be notified when I upload a new chapter, just send me an email at stormkpr@usa.net


	8. Chapter 8

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing.

CHAPTER EIGHT

*************

Scott Summers never had one single date in high school. 

Of course he didn't; his mutant powers made him into a bona-fide freak and the most picked-on kid in his class. Asking a girl out was unfathomable and, obviously, he was never asked to the Sadie Hawkins dance either.

Because of all this, Jean Grey was the only woman he ever went out with. The only woman he'd ever made love with.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Scott said to Jean, after a restless night. It was now Monday morning. The dreaded day had arrived. 

Jean's eyes were vacant as she breast fed Christopher. She murmured many of the words she'd been saying to Scott for several days. "It will be alright. You know it's the right thing to do."

"I know. I just can't believe that I'm going to do it. I can't….." he let his voice trail off. Scott then really looked at Jean and opened his mind to allow their link in. He slowly made his way to where she sat and then seated himself beside her. "This isn't exactly easy on you either, huh?" he gently asked.

Jean smiled. She felt relief that Scott had finally noticed her own dismay and acknowledged it. The sense of relief quickly turned to guilt. `Scott's the one who's got the hardest part to play here,' she told herself. She attempted to swallow her inner turmoil. "It's not easy on either of us," she admitted. "I think we just have to accept that we might be in for some turbulence for a while."

Scott nodded. "I know we can get through it, though. We can get through anything together."

"We have, indeed, survived much worse," Jean stoically commented.

"What do I talk about with her?" Scott asked. The question had been nipping at him for days. After all, the evening that Marina had described involved more than sex. They were to also have dinner together and attend "an event such as a play or a dance."

"Maybe you can ask her about Endarian history," Jean said. "She **is** the ruler of this place. Ask her about day to day life for an average Endarian. She gave us some CDs and books on the topic, but you can tell her you want to hear it from her perspective." Jean paused and added, "And if you have the dinner after the play or whatever you go see, you can talk about that---about the play. Ask her what she thinks about it, and the background and context to it."

"That's a good idea," Scott said, nodding. He then tried to repress a laugh, and failed.

//I know.// Jean responded, using their mindlink. This form of communication felt easier today. It was more pure. //I can't believe we're having this conversation. I'm actually giving you advice for a "date" you're going to have with another woman.//

//I can't believe it either. It's surreal.// A few silent moments drifted by as the two sat side by side. Christopher had finished nursing, and Jean then turned him over her shoulder for a burp. She then placed the sleepy baby back down inside his crib, and then resumed her place sitting next to her husband.

//It will be alright.// Jean repeated.

Scott's mind was quiet for a few seconds. //Jean? What if I can't do it?// 

Jean knew specifically to what Scott referred to. The two had tried to make love only once since their return to An'zhina, and an erection had eluded Scott that night. That shockingly had been the first time that ever happened to the couple.

//Try to not get all worried about that, Scott. I'm sure it will happen.// Jean responded. 

//But what if it doesn't? What if she won't give us the cure then, and all this agony will be for nothing?//

Jean sensed that a logical answer would console Scott the most; she knew that telling someone not to worry generally didn't work. //I am sure that the Endarians have something you can take that will make sure this problem doesn't happen. They have the most advance science we've ever seen.//

//I bet you're right!// Scott replied. Jean sensed that she'd successfully assuaged that fear. //If FOH have something that can take care of that, I'm sure Marina does.//

And then another fear entered Scott's mind. //What if Marina has some plan to keep me imprisoned with her forever?//

//Then we'll get you back. We have a moon full of X-men, and we'll rescue you. But, Scott….I really would not worry about that. I've never sensed any desire to do something like that from her.//

//Yeah, and her people are xenophobes so they probably wouldn't want me there.//

//I sense that Marina has her greedy and demanding side, but she's not crazy. She wouldn't try to do something like that.//

The day passed with all the speed of tectonic plates. The afternoon wore on until Queen Marina contacted Cyclops via his communicator. "Please be ready for beam up in approximately 30 minutes," stated the text message.

Scott received the message and looked at Jean. Another terrifying question surfaced.

"Jean….what do I wear?"

**************

Queen Marina smiled at the sight of her date. The handsome, clean-cut Scott Summers was beamed to her palace. Scott was clad in a conservative combination of black pants and dark sweater, looking nervous and uncomfortable. 

Knowing that Scott liked a clear agenda, Marina gave him one. First, they would attend a performance of "The Children of Past Spirits", a play which she told Scott was on a par with the masterpieces of Shakespeare. Following the three-hour classic, they would dine one-on-one in the palace gardens where Marina's waitstaff would serve their every need, and talented instrumentalists would play stirring music in the background. After dinner, "we will retire to my bed chamber and make love," as she so nonchalantly stated. 

Scott had nodded and muttered something agreeable about the plan. Marina knew the dilemma he faced. Their agreement, which Scott asked her to restate at the start of the evening, specified two items: 1) that Northstar would be cured of HIV and 2) that if---and only **if**---Marina was "exceptionally pleased" with tonight, she would give the X-men dilithium. (The term "exceptionally pleased" was not defined, and Scott was unsure as to whether that meant something specific about the result of their sexual encounter or whether it more generally meant that Marina enjoyed herself the entire evening.) Irregardless of the specific meaning of that phrase, Scott knew that he had to put some effort into their date---he was forced to put effort into conversation and into mimicking having a good time, as painful as it might be.

The evening progressed much as Marina had expected. Anticipating that Scott would dread having to socialize with anyone other than Marina, the two watched "The Children of Past Spirits" from a private box --- it afforded them complete seclusion while still keeping them close enough to the stage to enjoy the rousing production. A waiter entered a few times to supply with them hors d' oeuvres and drinks, which Scott declined.

Though he would have been loathe to admit it, Scott found himself enjoying the play. Not attuned to the nuances of Endarian culture, there was much he did not understand about the tragic play, but he appreciated the chance to get his mind off of his own bizarre predicament. He also fondly remembered the times he and Jean would spend a night on the town and enjoy a musical or a play. Those times had been few and far between due to the nature of the lives they'd led back on earth, and they'd always talked about going out more often. The chance to do so had passed them by.

Of course the minute Scott started reminiscing for dates with Jean back on earth, he had to shake his head at the events of the evening. He was sitting next to a woman he did not love---did not even like---instead of being with his soulmate.

Marina had not expected their dinner to be without awkwardness, and she was correct in her expectations. Still, the two managed to keep a conversation going. Marina inquired about An'zhina, asking him whether its inhabitants had all that they needed and how Scott enjoyed the moon. Scott told her a bit about the "renaissance" that was occurring on the moon, with burgeoning athletic and social clubs, and various group activities taking place. Scott asked her about Endarian history and culture. Marina was quite knowledgeable on the subject of history, and she spoke at great length about her people's past. Throughout the dinner, Scott did an admirable job of hiding his disgust and anger over his current circumstances. He had to, if he had any hope of Marina donating dilithium to the X-men.

When the server first brought them drinks, Scott asked point-blank whether there were any mood-altering drugs or "anything along those lines" in his food. Marina smiled and said that she would tell him only the truth—and that his drink did contain a "stimulant which will ensure that you are able to perform tonight." She stated that there were no other drugs or anything like that hidden in his food or drink. She sensed that Scott was actually somewhat relieved over not having to worry about erection problems. He drank his enhanced beverage without protest.

After they had finished the meal (which had consisted of several small courses --- apparently, Scott learned, Endarian dining style resembled a _tappas_ restaurant), Marina stood up, extended her hand, and led Scott to her bed chamber.

Scott experienced a sensation he was no stranger to. He blinked a few times, his brain not registering his surroundings, his mind in some state of disbelief over the circumstances he found himself in. `I can't believe I'm actually going through with this.'

Later, after Scott was beamed back to An'zhina, Marina smiled and gradually fell into a peaceful sleep. Given the enhanced fertility pills she had taken combined with the fact that she had scheduled this evening for a peak day during her cycle, her chances of conceiving were high. Would she be the first Endarian ruler in history to give birth to a mutant baby? And what sort of powers might this child have? A mutant child would cement Marina's---and the child's---place in Endarian history.

**************

That same evening, Storm and Wolverine found themselves in Agata's salsa dancing class. Wolverine's dancing skills were on a par with his lovemaking skills, Storm had discovered. Though some in the class had secretly doubted whether the gruff man could move on the dance floor for more than two steps without tripping over his own feet, they found that he was not merely capable but quite adept indeed. Storm smiled to herself….deep down, she had suspected as much.

'Does he ever feel bad about his height?' Storm wondered, for she towered over him. Their eight inch height difference was extremely noticeable during dancing. `I suppose I could ask him one day,' Storm said to herself. But she hesitated at ever bringing that up. There were still some things that she did not feel comfortable discussing with him, and she could not imagine him actually wanting to talk about this, even if he did experience some awkwardness about their height difference. `Relationships are never perfect,' she reminded herself. If they didn't have the level of intimacy where they could discuss each and every thing, then they didn't have it.

`Perhaps someday, we shall.'

After the dance, the two flew up to the tallest hill on An'zhina. The evening was pleasantly cool, and they sat together contentedly, not saying much but holding each other closely.

************

Jean Grey decided to forget about sleep for the time being. Although the hour was late, she simply could not reach the necessary state of tranquility. Her mindlink with Scott told her that her spouse was alright. Beyond that, she had no wish to probe for details. 

She was startled by the soft whir of a transporter. She turned around and saw that Scott had been beamed into their quarters.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," Scott replied. The two stood looking at each other. For once in a very, very long time, they felt palpable awkwardness between them. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jean finally asked.

Scott shook his head. "Not right now. Maybe later." Jean actually felt a surge of relief. She didn't want to discuss it right now either. Later. There was always later, and it would be easier then.

Scott turned his head and looked at the bed.

Jean then read his mind. Although it was far past both of their bedtimes, sleep would not be coming to him soon, either. "Do you wanna take a walk?" she asked him.

"Yes!" he answered, visibly brightening at the idea. Leaving the two children in the room (Jean's mindlink would alert the parents to any problems), Scott and Jean walked outside for nearly an hour, holding hands and not saying a word to each other.

**************

The following morning, Marina sent a text message to Scott on his communicator. It read: "Have Northstar ready for beam up just after the lunch hour. The procedure to rid his body of the virus should take less than an hour and will be painless. I have decided not to give you dilthium at this time; however feel free to contact me again for another engagement and I will consider it then."

************

The Endarians didn't allow anyone to go with Jean-Paul for his cure, though Jeanne-Marie and I both, obviously, wanted to be there with him. And I didn't understand why they wanted him alone. Last time he underwent medical care at the hands of the Endarians (when his arm was replaced), they allowed me along. Not sure what changed, but they beamed away Jean-Paul alone shortly after we ate lunch. (I didn't actually eat much; I was so nervous.)

"Do you think he will be alright?" Jeanne-Marie whispered to me.

"I'm sure he will," I replied, though I must have sounded as unconvinced as I felt.

"But why must they take him alone? Why can't we go with him?" she repeated. 

"It's gonna be alright," I murmured. I turned to face Jeanne-Marie, once again looking into those eyes that so mirrored my beloved's own eyes. "Jeanne-Marie," I began gently, "you know that all we can do now is sit and wait. Obsessing about it isn't going to help."

She sighed. "I suppose you are right. Well, when they replaced his arm, everything turned out well."

"See? It's gonna be just fine now too."

"But then why can we not go with him?" she repeated, asking me a question to which I had no answer. 

We talked in circles until we agreed to do something to get our minds off of Jean-Paul. We didn't really want to go interact with anyone else right now. We had to keep what was going on a secret from basically everyone….the only people we theoretically could have discussed this with were Scott and Jean. And for obvious reasons, we didn't want to. Because we wanted no contact with anyone else, Jeanne-Marie scooped me up into her strong arms and flew me to the other side of the moon. This portion of the moon (where Rogue and Gambit had their honeymoon) was basically uninhabited and people tended to go there when they wanted to be alone. Jeanne-Marie and I amused ourselves with card games and with some very silly games too. (She flew back to get her make-up and we took turns painting each other's faces. Afterwards we drew a hopscotch in the sand and played hopscotch. I'm not kidding.)

An hour later, Jean-Paul contacted both of us on our communicators. "I'm back. And I'm fine. I'm in my room now. Where are you two?"

"We went to the other side of the island," Jeanne-Marie replied. "I mean, moon," she corrected herself. "We'll be right there."

She scooped me up again and then used her hyperspeed to get us to her brother. Flying with one of the Beaubiers when they traveled so fast was almost dizzying and very exciting. We reached our destination in a few seconds. When we went up to Jean-Paul, he embraced both of us. 

"So, how did it go?" I asked.

"How do you feel?" Jeanne-Marie asked eagerly.

"I feel fine," he shrugged. "Of course I felt fine this morning too. I cannot say that I feel any different. They….Bobby, amour, have you decided to start doing drag?"

"Have I what? Oh. I—uh---we were bored," I explained.

"The make-up looks cute on you." He smiled and caressed the side of my face.

"So tell us what they did to you! How do we know if the cure actually worked?" Jeanne-Marie demanded. She wasn't in the mood for banter about my make-up (though it had seemed hilarious 20 minutes ago when she was painting me.)

"Relax, ma soeur. We can go to Hank and he can test me again to find out if it worked. The Endarian doctor told me, when it was all over, that I am cured."

"What was it like? What did they do?" I asked.

Jean-Paul again shrugged, apparently taking it all in stride. "They poked and prodded me for a bit with something that looked like a tricorder. After that, they had me hooked up to something that looked like an IV for a while. I did not feel anything during the treatment, no pain. "

"And you feel fine now?"

"Yes."

Jeanne-Marie really wanted us to pay a visit to Hank or Moira and ensure that her brother was indeed cured. I quickly washed the make-up off my face and we flew to the infirmary. One of the medical assistants, Ramon, was there and he told us that neither Moira nor Hank were. We called Hank and, after a few minutes, he walked through the infirmary's doors.

"Thank you for coming here so quickly," I said.

"I was downstairs, working on the children's playset with Wolverine and Cannonball," Hank said. "Is everything alright here?"

"The Endarians agreed to cure me of the HIV," Jean-Paul said. "We wanted you to test me, to confirm that what they did worked."

"Of course. I am extremely pleased to hear that the Endarians were amenable to providing you with a cure."

Jean-Paul smiled. "No one is more pleased about that than we are, Hank."

"Of course, let's see if it really worked before we celebrate," Jeanne-Marie said, still sounding unconvinced.

I feared that Hank would start asking more questions, but fortunately he just asked Jean-Paul for a blood sample, and then administered the test. Last I heard from Cyclops (who, by the way, I hadn't seen since before he and Marina must've done the nasty), we were still under orders to not discuss the specifics of this with anyone. And last I heard, all Hank was told was that the Endarians were "looking into" the possibility of granting Jean-Paul a cure. So I didn't know how much more I could say.

Hank performed two tests on Jean-Paul. I'd been through these tests before myself. The first one provides results in ten minutes, and the second---more comprehensive, more accurate---test provides results in 48 hours. The second test was basically there for confirmation purposes since the quick test had a lower accuracy rate.

During the wait for the results from the ten-minute test, the four of us chatted amicably. Jeanne-Marie asked how Panda was doing, and Hank told us that all was well. A baby shower was being planned (even though, due to the replicators, Panda and Hank basically had everything one needed.) Hank also told us about the progression of the playset he and the others were working on.

"I'm glad you're making time to do other things," I said sincerely.

"As am I, and as is Panda," Hank said. "I have been continuing my research of this virus and usually have been in the laboratory between 8 and 9 hours per day. This schedule affords me time with Panda, while I still am able to continue searching for a cure."

"Hank….thank you for all you have done to find a cure," Jean-Paul said, with humility in his voice.

"The quest for knowledge is one of my passions. As is the pursuit of health and well-being for others." He paused. "I do not suppose that the Endarians were at all willing to share their cure for this with us?"

"No. I mean that I didn't ask. I just assumed that they would not share it."

"Hmm," Hank replied, sounding not at all surprised. "I might send a text message to the Queen, asking her if she might share this information with us. I am nearly certain that her answer shall be negative, but at the very least, I would like to inquire."

Jean-Paul's quick test was done and Hank delivered the exhilarating, though not surprising, news. "According to the results of this test, you are now HIV negative. As soon as the results from the other test are complete, I will contact you."

Jeanne-Marie then broke down and started weeping tears of happiness. I didn't cry but I started getting all gooey inside too. The four of us ended up in a group hug.

***********

Hank McCoy later made his way back to the area of the construction on the playset and rejoined Wolverine and Gambit in their work on the structure. He suspected that he and Bobby would later have a discussion regarding the events of the past few days, but that discussion time would be (and should be) at a later date.

Hank knew what was going on.

He was a smart man, able to take a set of data and make some inferences. Being a field commander, he had known of Marina's uncouth request of Scott some time ago. Jean's discomfort when she told Hank to both take a break from seeking the cure and that the Endarians were considering curing Northstar themselves was another hint. Observing Scott, Jean, and Bobby for the past several days (though only for limited periods of time), Hank deduced the truth simply by their body language. Bobby's avoidance of his best friend provided another clue, and Hank knew it had to do with more than just Bobby wanting to give Hank and Panda some time together.

Hank, however, cared not about the means which were used to cure Northstar of HIV. He felt tremendous relief for Northstar, Jeanne-Marie and particularly for Bobby. Whatever Scott might have done to influence Queen Marina was between Scott and Jean. Hank had no desire to gossip about it with anyone, nor would he think to pass judgement on Scott's (and Marina's) actions. And as much as his scientific brain craved learning about the Endarians' cure for HIV, he knew that this was not the time to pursue it.

He also knew that Bobby would soon want to talk about the events of the past few days and lay out his guilt over not telling Hank the whole truth. He knew that Bobby would seek absolution from Hank on this matter, and that Hank would need to assure his friend that he had not minded that he was not told all of the facts on this, and had not minded the long hours in the lab. He would need to reassure Bobby that he was not mad at him and that things were "okay" between them.

'A friendship with Bobby is good preparation for parenthood,' Hank thought.

***************

Rogue and Gambit were spending the afternoon at one of their favorite places---the beach. Finishing a refreshing bout of swimming, the couple now lounged on their beach blanket where they ate juicy grapes and crisp baby carrots from the garden. (The rules on An'zhina specified that only those who worked a few hours per week on the community garden were entitled to eat its produce. Neither Rogue nor Gambit gardened, however Bobby gladly shared his share of the garden's riches with his friends.) 

"How the hell did I get sand in my mouth?" Rogue wondered, feeling its crunch as she chewed her grapes.

"We got sand everywhere, chere," Gambit answered, smiling. Rogue had flown them from the water directly to their blanket to avoid tenuous sand clinging to wet feet, but somehow the sand prevailed.

Suddenly, little Aurora ran up to the couple. "Hi, sugar-pie," Rogue greeted the girl. She and Gambit fussed over her, and Jubilee followed moments behind.

"Hi, guys," she said breezily.

"Well, if it ain't the young lady who went on a date last night," Rogue teased. She was glad that Jubilee had taken her daughter to the beach and their paths crossed. "I can't wait to hear how it went!"

Jubilee smiled at the attention. "It went good," she said.

"Uh-huh," Rogue said, with an encouraging nod. "Weeeelll, give us some details, girl!"

Jubilee took a place sitting on the blanket beside Gambit, who was merrily tossing Rory around and around in his arms. The toddler laughed with glee. Rogue watched her husband and felt her heart pulse knowing what a wonderful father he would make. She hoped that their time for parenthood would come soon!

"It was good," Jubilee repeated. "Sam's a really nice guy. We had dinner together in the hills and then we danced at Agata's salsa class. He's a pretty decent dancer. I stepped on his feet a few times—I about died of embarrassment. He just laughed and said not to worry." 

"Did you two have a lot to talk about?" Gambit asked.

"Yeah. I mean, we never ran out of stuff to say and we didn't have any of those long pauses." Gambit listened as Jubilee recounted the events. She was sincere, he decided, in that the two had enjoyed each other's company. She did not, however, sound as if swept off her feet. She wasn't exactly gushing over Sam as she spoke. `Dat's okay,' he said to himself. 'Dat might come later---it don't always happen right away.'

"Did he kiss you?" Rogue asked, smiling.

"No. He hugged me. It was sweet. We talked about going out again, maybe watching a movie on the vidcam and eating popcorn, or doing a beach trip. Hey…speaking of that, would you mind babysitting Aurora when we go?"

"No problem," Gambit said. "Jus' tell us when." Rogue nodded her assent.

"Cool. Thanks." Jubilee looked forward to her next date. Sam seemed like such a great guy, and having something to take her mind off of the fiasco with Moonstar helped too.

"You guys oughtta maybe think 'bout having her along on a date or two sometime," Rogue suggested. "She seems to like him and he plays with her well."

"That's a good idea," Jubilee said. They spoke for a while longer, before Aurora got eager for the water. Jubilee held her daughter's hand as they made their way to the water, which was shimmering bright blue. 

Later on, Rogue and Gambit packed up their blanket and snacks, and they headed back for the main complex. They leisurely sat together on one of the larger patios, sipping cool drinks and conversing with others who were congregating there and enjoying the weather. Neither Rogue nor Gambit was in any particular hurry. They planned on hitting the Danger Room for a session later that afternoon, but they understood that they possessed an abundance of time. There simply was no need to rush.

`Gonna miss dese days when dey be over,' Gambit thought. He knew that once he and Rogue became parents, their free time would shrink.

"Want another one?" Rogue asked, pointing to his empty beer can. She had finished her lemonade and wanted to get a refill.

"Nah---had enough of dem today. How 'bout some lemonade, 'dough?"

"Sure thing, sugar," Rogue said. 

"You're too good to Gambit," he smiled at her.

She kissed his cheek and took his empty beer can before heading off to the nearest food replicator, which was inside the building. 

On her way back to Gambit, Rogue observed someone else entering the patio area. Her name was Sandy and she was a rescuee from the third FOH camp the X-men had liberated. Sandy was a very attractive woman in her early twenties. She favored revealing outfits and today's ensemble was characteristic of her style. She wore skin-tight black leggings, which revealed every curve, and Rogue figured that underneath those leggings either was nothing or a thong. Whatever the case, Sandy's shapely rear end jutted out. Her top half was clad in a white halter top which revealed quite a bit of cleavage as well as a tight midsection. Sandy's long blonde hair reached her shoulder blades.

Rogue paused to observe, as she held the two drinks in her hands. Sandy slowly walked by Gambit, hips gently swaying, and Rogue couldn't help but to notice Gambit's eyes following the blonde. He was definitely checking her out. 

When Sandy exited the patio, Rogue sat next to Gambit. "Here you go," Rogue said, handing Remy his glass of the sweet drink.

"Thanks, chere," he said, as he accepted the beverage.

Rogue scooted closer to her husband and rested her head on his shoulder. "You ever wish I wore more revealing clothes?" she asked. Rogue's everyday wardrobe was fairly conservative now. It contained a pair or two of short-shorts, but aside from that, her collection of revealing clothing was limited to lingerie seen only by Remy.

"I love the stuff you wear 'round the bedroom," he said. "An' your other clothes all be beautiful too. Why you askin'?" he wondered, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, it hit him. "Oh. You saw me lookin' at Sandy."

Rogue lifted her head from Remy's shoulder and nodded. 

"You mad?"

Rogue shook her head.

"You jealous?"

Rogue again shook her head. "Nope."

"So everyt'in' okay between us?" he asked.

"Yeah." She looked at him, into those amazing eyes of his, those tiny lava pool eyes he had. "I ain't jealous of you lookin' at other women," she said softy. "I guess it's only natural," she admitted, though she herself had minimal desire to really look at men aside from Remy. But she knew that she had to deal with the fact that he was different than her in some ways, such as this.

"You know dat lookin' is jus' lookin'," he said, gently. "It don't mean anyt'in', chere. I'm not interested in anyone 'cept you."

"I know," Rogue said, truthfully. "It ain't a crime to look. But I was jus' wonderin' if you wanted me to dress more that way."

Remy put an arm around her and brought his lips close to her ear. "You dress however you like, chere. I love you no matter what be on the outside." He slowly reached for an earlobe and nibbled on it. "'Sides, you know dat I t'ink you be one gorgeous lady. An' I love you no matter what, too."

"I love you too, Remy," Rogue softly answered, feeling content.

************

As soon as we left Hank's lab where we received Jean-Paul's negative HIV test result, Jean-Paul turned to his sister. "No offense, ma soeur, but I would like to spend some time alone with Bobby. That is," he quickly added, turning towards me, "if that is agreeable to you, Bobby."

"Of course!" I said with enthusiasm.

Jeanne-Marie said, "I understand," reached for her brother and gave him another kiss. She then kissed me, and flew off. I watched her go, and then felt Jean-Paul suddenly scooping me up into his strong arms.

He flew us to his room. As soon as we were inside, he backed me against a wall and reached one hand to squeeze my ass. He brought his lips to mine and gave me a breathtaking kiss. His tongue aggressively entered my mouth. The hand that had been on my ass was now tugging at my clothes.

"This okay with you?" Jean-Paul asked, breaking away from the kiss long enough to ask.

"Hell yeah!" I answered, my heart thumping. I knew what was going through Jean-Paul's mind, knew that he was going to fuck me, which he hadn't done since his diagnosis. His diagnosis might have been only mere weeks ago, but it felt like eons. Now that he was free of the virus, he felt that it was safe enough to get inside me again. My libido was soaring because I missed getting fucked, missed it **so** much. I couldn't wait to feel him moving inside of me again. I was already getting hard.

"Mmmmmm," I moaned. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he replied. He brought his lips back to mine, this time kissing me with more finesse. But still with aggression too.

His energy was as boundless as mine---we had a marathon lovemaking session that afternoon. We ended up in just about every feasible position, and he even eventually invited me to top him, which he had not offered since before the assault by FOH. It seemed like a lifetime ago. By that time I was exhausted but my dick was somehow still willing, so Jean-Paul sat on top of me and bounced up and down. I throbbed inside him, practically giddy with happiness, as he brought his fingers down towards my mouth for me to suck. 

When we were all finished, we lay together wrapped in each other's arms. We were drenched in sweat, limbs aching, and we were completely depleted of energy --- but just about happier than ever.

************

Simultaneously, down the hall just a bit, another bout of lovemaking was taking place. In addition to the usual feelings of love and lust and arousal and connection, one other emotion was on the forefront of Scott Summers' mind: relief. 

Jean's long legs were wrapped around Scott as he thrust inside his wife. Enveloped inside of her, his body covered in sweat, he listened to Jean's soft moans which were building in intensity along with his movements. He brought his mouth down upon hers and kissed her tenderly, though with passion and fervor too.

Through their mindlink, Scott felt Jean climaxing and he followed right behind her. The incredible tension which he had been mired in finally burst and he lost himself in layers of achingly good spasms. He tried to cling to them for as long as possible before they slowly, tantalizingly floated away, taking his stress and anger with them. Both the lovers continued thrusting their hips long after their orgasms had subsided, just trying to grasp at the last remnants of the delicious sensations.

"That was incredible," Jean whispered. Their loving session had started with a bubble bath, and the romance and passion had only built from there. 

Scott slowly rolled off of her. Without breaking their physical contact, Jean repositioned herself to rest her head on Scott's chest. "Amazing," Scott agreed, stroking Jean's hair. He then silently added to himself, 'As amazing as ever.'

Jean had picked up on her husband's sense of relief. In fact, she shared it. This bout of lovemaking had been just like any of their others, quelling any of their mutual fears. It had to mean that all between them would be well. She finally sensed, in her mind and deep in her bones, that despite all the bumps they had encountered and likely would continue to face, everything would be just fine in the long run.

Scott had not spoken at all about his evening with Marina. However, as Jean told herself, it had occurred less than 24 hours ago and she resolved not to push him on it. Someday she would invite him to open up about what happened, share his feelings and get it out of his system. But not right now. Today was a day to celebrate their closeness and their love.

***************

The X-men leadership called a meeting for all X-men to take place late on Thursday. Cyclops had visited Northstar in his room the previous morning and asked him whether the Endarians had, in fact, cured him of HIV. Northstar told him that the results of the comprehensive HIV test would be ready Thursday, but the result of the preliminary test indicated he was now HIV negative. 

"We need to tell the others that you're cured," Cyclops said, standing by the doorway, facing Northstar. "Calling a meeting is the best way to do it, so we can get it out in the open and avoid the grapevine." He then shared with Northstar specifically how he wanted the subject to be covered during the meeting.

Northstar nodded, observing that Scott seemed in a much better mood than he had for the past several days. "You are right. I agree with holding a meeting about this because when we told everyone of my diagnosis, we called a meeting --- we have to handle the follow-up the same way." Despite the fact that his logical self knew that was the truth, Northstar would never appreciate being on display like this. He would have to suck up and deal with it, he told himself, as much as he disliked it. He then added, "If the results of the second HIV test say that I'm not cured, I'll let you know before we have the meeting. But I trust that the second test will have the same result as the first one."

Scott nodded and then started to turn away. Northstar reached out as if to stop him. "Oh, Cyclops?" he began, his voice a question asking Scott to stay.   
  
Scott turned back towards Northstar and raised his eyebrows.

"I---I just wanted to thank you," Northstar said, gulping down his pride. He hated to do this but knew he had to. He owed his clean bill of health, the fact that he was not going to die of AIDS, to Scott Summers. He owed the fact that his sister and his lover would not be going insane with grief, to Scott. Jeanne-Marie's mood since Tuesday had been better than it had since before her son had been taken by FOH----and that in and of itself was amazing. "I will never be able to re-pay my debt to you. I owe you my life."

Scott listened to Northstar's words feeling a mixture of emotions, none of which he cared to process then. He fleetingly felt glad that he would not have to live with guilt over Northstar's death. At the same time, he felt degraded over the evening with Marina and guilty over the betrayal of his wedding vows. He experienced a fair measure of anger too. So he listened to Northstar's words and stiffly nodded. 

Northstar had no wish to prolong the awkward moment, but he needed to add, "If there is ever anything I can do for you or Jean…." he allowed his voice to trail off.

"I'll let you know," Cyclops said. He then nodded, turned and walked down the hall

Shortly after dinner on Thursday, all of the X-men found being summoned to a meeting. Earlier that day, Northstar's second test had indeed borne out the results of the first: his body was free of the HIV.

***********

"Maybe it ain't that important and that's why you ain't in on it," Wolverine said quietly to Storm as they walked down the hall towards the main meeting room.

Cyclops's message to assemble the group had been brief and vague. Storm was fighting back a negative reaction to the whole scenario. As co-leader of the X-men, being kept "in the loop" was her right and yet she had learned of this meeting at the same time as everyone else---no earlier. "Perhaps you are right," she said. "But I still cannot help but to be concerned that a meeting of the team is being called and I have no idea to what it pertains."

"Darlin', if it's really botherin' you, maybe you oughtta talk to Cyke when it's over."

"I think I just may do so. I do not wish to sound as if I am overreacting, but this is not the first time that this has happened."

"You got a point."

Storm and her lover entered the large conference room. She observed the other X-men filtering in and finding seats. Everyone was there: in addition to herself and Wolverine were the Professor, Cyclops, Jean, Jubilee, Gambit, Rogue, Beast, Panda, Iceman, Northstar, Nightcrawler, Angel, Banshee, Moira, Shaman, Aurora, Cannonball, Moonstar, and Wraith. Storm looked at Jeanne-Marie and saw that in lieu of her usually gloomy facial expression, Jeanne-Marie was nearly beaming. It was an unusual, somewhat shocking, sight; the former member of Alpha Flight was not known for exactly radiating joy. The best mood Storm had ever seen on Jeanne-Marie's face before this day had been one step above miserable. Storm started to get a suspicion of the purpose of the meeting.

"Thank you for gathering here today on short notice," Cyclops said, once everyone was seated around the circular table. "We called this meeting because Northstar has an announcement to make." He turned and looked at Northstar, who was sitting on his left hand side. 

"Thank you, Cyclops," Northstar said, sounding somewhat stiff and uncomfortable, Storm observed. Northstar then spoke well-rehearsed words. "I wanted to share some good news with you. The Endarians agreed to help me. I went for treatment and the treatment was successful--- I have been cured of the HIV. I no longer have it."

For the past couple of days, Northstar had been laying low, as had Bobby and Jeanne-Marie. The trio had spent some time on the other (uninhabited) side of the moon and even some time aboard Freedom, ostensibly running a few routine tests. Northstar's absence now made sense, Storm observed. 

The X-men expressed their relief and happiness to Northstar, as well as to Jeanne-Marie and Bobby. Many cheers and exclamations of "Thank God," "Thank goodness", and "What a relief" were heard. 

Storm looked at Remy and Rogue. The married couple exchanged a knowing look with each other; brief as it was, Storm caught it. Remy's face didn't give much away, as always, but Rogue was that much easier to read. Looking at them, she could tell that they both knew something that she did not. As much as Storm hated to admit it, that thought gnawed at her and she craved knowing the truth.

"I wish to thank everyone," Northstar said when the commotion died down a bit. "I….I must say that I'm truly humbled by the support I received from all of you," he said, speaking slowly and emphasizing each word. "I spent a lot of time by myself since I was diagnosed, a lot of time in my room. But I felt your support and I appreciated all of your prayers. I especially want to thank a few people. Hank…and Moira, I can never thank you enough for all the time you spent researching a cure." Northstar then looked at his sister and his lover. "Jeanne-Marie and Bobby…thank you both for putting up with me and my moods during all of this. I love you."

Northstar's declarations did not come across as rehearsed to Storm; in fact, his words were touchingly heartfelt. The room was silent for a few moments afterwards. Northstar was not exactly known for expressing gratitude in public.

"May I ask a question?" Dani Moonstar spoke up.

Northstar looked at her and nodded. Dani then asked innocently, "Since the Endarians were nice enough to cure you, can we also get from them some more dilithium so that we can continue our missions to earth? I mean, the lives of mutants on earth depend on it." 

Storm admired Moonstar for speaking up during the meeting; the young woman was not intimidated in the presence of all the seasoned X-men. Storm observed, however, that Dani had not been in the best of moods lately. She had approached her and asked her if she wished to speak about it, but Dani had declined. Wolverine told Storm that Jubilee had mentioned she and Moonstar had a falling out. Neither of the young women were responsive to Storm and Wolverine's offers to help resolve the problem, unfortunately. Storm and Wolverine both hoped that the two would fix on their own whatever had marred their friendship.

After Moonstar's question was out, Northstar and Cyclops quickly looked at each other. Northstar then answered, "We did ask them about dilithium but they refused. Queen Marina said that she decided to give me the cure because my life was at stake, but she said giving dilithium is not a matter of life and death to us, and therefore we could not have any."

"I dona understand," Moira MacTaggert spoke up. There was a barely-concealed hint of distress, and even a note of pain, in her voice. "Surely you all remember the Chinese girl, Lu, who died of AIDS less than a year ago. I thought that Queen Marina was asked about a cure at that time and that she refused."

"That is true," a poker-faced Cyclops answered. "Moira, why the Queen changed her mind we can only guess at. I have no idea."

"She's always been partial to those of us who are X-men," Jean Grey spoke up. "She's always made it clear that she prefers us X-men over the other non-X-men mutants. Maybe---and very unfortunately---she didn't perceive Lu's life as being quite as valuable as an X-man's."

"That is a crying shame," Moira said softly, "for a human life to be needlessly wasted like that." She quickly added, "Of course I am thrilled that she has cured you, Northstar; please dona misinterpret what I'm saying."

During the last exchange, Storm examined the expressions of the other X-men in the room, paying close attention to Cyclops, Jean, Gambit, Rogue, Hank, Northstar and Bobby. Clearly **something** was going on and some people in the room knew things which others did not. The energy and discomfort in the room were palpable. Storm then turned to Wolverine and shot a look at him.

He shot back another look which said, `We'll talk after the meeting.'

************

"Scott slept with Marina, didn't he?"

Immediately after the conclusion of the awkward meeting, Storm and Wolverine walked in silence towards the corridor with the X-men's rooms. They entered Storm's room because Wolverine's was a few more paces down the hall.

Storm asked that question the second that the doors had slid closed. She then continued, "I mean, you know that I am not one to gossip, Logan, but it was quite obvious that some X-men in that room were 'in the know' about something. And we know about Marina's previous request of Scott."

"Yeah, it was obvious when Moira asked about the Endarians not curing Lu, huh?" Wolverine commented. He then added, "When Cyke walked passed me, I smelled Marina on him."

For the previous few days, Wolverine had not been in the same room as Scott. He didn't know –or care---whether Cyclops had been intentionally avoiding him or not, but Scott had to have known that eventually they would come into contact and Wolverine's hypersenses would detect Marina's scent on his body. 

Storm sank down into a chair. "I cannot believe it. I cannot believe that he went through with it," she murmured. Very few things surprised her nowadays, but this truly did.

Wolverine shrugged. "It was the only thing that wouldda saved Northstar's life. I'dve done it for a teammate. You wouldda too, I bet." He actually found himself feeling a morsel of admiration for Scott over this, though he didn't feel the need to share that with Storm.

Storm slowly nodded, not looking at her lover. "Are you jealous?" she asked. The words slipped out of her normally very-controlled mouth without her realizing it.

"Huh? Jealous of Cyke? Marina's attractive but she ain't----" he abruptly stopped himself. He then asked, with remarkable softness, "That ain't what you meant, was it? What didya mean?"

"I'm sorry, Logan. I spoke unthinkingly."

"But what didya mean? There was somethin' serious in your question."

Sensing he wasn't going to drop this and marveling at his perceptiveness, Storm responded, "I'm not really sure where my mind was going. I think part of me wondered that if Scott was sleeping with someone else, whether you were jealous of the fact that….that Jean wasn't sleeping with someone else.."

Wolverine walked over towards Storm and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm over Jean, Storm. You are the one that I love." One of his hands gently wove its way through her hair.

Storm smiled and placed a hand over Wolverine's free hand. "I know. What was I thinking?" she asked.

**************  
"Can ya believe it!"

"I gotta admit. I admire good ol' Cyke. He did it." Gambit then hastily added, "Not dat anyone should sleep wit' someone other den deir spouse 'cept when a life be at stake."

Rogue playfully swatted at him. "That's right, Swamp Rat, and don't ever forgit it!" she declared, smiling. The two did just as Storm and Wolverine had---hightailed it for their room and some privacy immediately after the meeting. Rogue then added, seriously this time, "I really didn't think he'd do it. I mean, I know Bobby came to us one day during the trip home and told us that Scott agreed to do it, but I didn't really think Cyclops would go through with it! I thought maybe he'd just let Northstar get real sick and maybe then do it. Or that he'd back out. But I really didn't see him doin' it now. I gotta hand it to him."

"I t'ink he did the right t'ing."

"Yeah," she said, in agreement. "He did." Rogue looked at her hands. "Shit, I feel kinda bad for any of the nasty thoughts I had 'bout Cyke----and the doubts. He really came through when he needed to."

Gambit nodded. "Bet this be real hard on him. An' on Jean too.":

"The two of them are probably full of resentment of Northstar and Bobby."

Gambit shrugged. "I t'ink Cyke already resented dem for bein' gay. He gets so uncomfortable whenever dat comes up, dat dis sure ain't gonna help none." Gambit stopped himself and added, "I gotta stop bashin' Scott dough. He did the right thing here."

"Ya think we oughtta tell him so?" 

"Tell him dat we t'ink he did the right t'ing? Nah. Even dough Scott knows dat we know, I t'ink he be more upset if we talk 'bout it openly. I t'ink he prefer dat dis not be talked 'bout."  
  
"Yeah—what was I thinking?" Rogue smiled. "I'm glad that we now got an explanation for why Bobby's been avoiding us like the plague lately." Bobby was one of their best friends but they had spent precious little time with him since the return to An'zhina. Bobby was always either tending the garden or somewhere secluded with Northstar. "I figured he wanted to be alone with Northstar and such, but probably Cyke asked him to keep it quiet till they were sure Northstar was cured."

"Gotta hand it to Bobby," Gambit murmured. "He did a good job at keepin' dat a secret." Bobby had not brought the topic up once since their return to An'zhina. 

TO BE CONTINUED

*************

Author's notes:

****

First, as many of you know, fanfiction.net has vowed to remove all fics rated NC-17. They plan to take them all down forever, starting October 12th. Please consider signing the petition to ask them to change their policy at:

http://www.petitiononline.com/KEEPNC17/petition.html

If the petition is not successful, then don't despair. I might try to return to fanfiction.net with a toned-down rating. And you can still read my fics at Leigh's Fiction. 

****

Secondly, I have a note in regards to the scene with Rogue, Gambit, and Sandy and specifically the reference to Rogue dressing more conservatively (i.e.—not wearing the revealing clothing that Sandy wore.) I know that the guys who draw the comics show basically all the women dressing in abbreviated clothing, but I just don't think it's that realistic. (And besides, this fic is based off the animated series, where the women dressed in normal clothes when not shown in their uniforms.) I think that it just stretches credibility to believe that Rogue, Jean, Storm and the others truly wear what Marvel's illustrators think they do on their off-duty time. I think that most of us acknowledge that they're drawn that way to get horny people to buy the comics : -) and I reject it as not being reality for the X-women. So that's why the narrator commented about Rogue not wearing "sexy" clothing, except for some short shorts and lingerie in the bedroom. Hope this makes sense to y'all. 

****

I still welcome any and all feedback. Please email me at stormkpr@usa.net (since I cannot upload this—or any other chapter---to fanfiction.net due to the NC17 rating of my overall fic.)

Finally, if you want to be notified when I upload a new chapter, just send me an email at stormkpr@usa.net


	9. Chapter 9

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing.

CHAPTER NINE

*************

Not long after the meeting, I found myself walking up and down the rows of the garden and inspecting it in the waning sunlight. This place was amazing. We didn't have anything remotely resembling a winter or a frost and the garden thrived all the time. I was surrounded with all these delicious shades of green: moss, pistachio, spruce, lime, viridian. The colors all seemed so much more bright and intense than on earth, even with the Endarian sun slowly setting that day.

My mouth watered at the thought of what I could make with the robust cabbages, pale green baby leeks, fat tomatoes, red and green lettuce, lumpy and fibrous fava beans, and the white stems of swiss chard with their glossy leaves. Our loosely-applied rule on An'zhina specified that anyone who worked on the garden was entitled to pick from it and savor its riches (using moderation and judgement, of course. If your only time in the garden was 10 minutes hoeing one day, you weren't supposed to pick half the tomato crop.) I started thinking that a good, restorative vegetable soup with a thick stock would be the just the thing now, perhaps served with some crusty bread dipped in oil. I could see Jean-Paul and I sitting down to such a meal in one of our rooms.

"Amazing, no? That the garden grows so well all the time."

Jean-Paul surprised me, flying up to me quick as a wink. I was alone for one second and found my boyfriend next to me the next second.

"I was just thinking that," I said. "This place seems to have the amazing ability to support life all the time. And to restore life," I said, looking at him pointedly. "I was very touched by what you said in the meeting."

"I meant it," he said quietly, moving to hold one of my hands. "I truly am humbled by everything. And especially by the support from you and Jeanne-Marie. And by the thought that Scott thought that I was worth it."

"I was very touched by what you said in front of everyone, about me, too."  


"You mean when I said that I loved you?" he asked.

I nodded in response. He kissed my shoulder (I was wearing a sleeveless shirt.) "Some parts of the meeting were uncomfortable," he said, sighing. "I feel more naked and exposed than ever. If I had my wish, no one would've known that I ever had AIDS----I mean, HIV. And I wish no one knew what the FOH did to me. But such is life. As Shaman would say, we don't always get what we want. I am cured and that is all I care about."

"That's all I care about too. You're gonna live. We might have a hard time ever getting on comfortable terms with Scott and Jean again," I shrugged, "but we can try to fix it eventually. For now, all that matters is that you're gonna make it." I paused. "I haven't seen Jeanne-Marie looking so happy in a long time. Maybe ever."

Jean-Paul nodded. He then reached for me and whispered something naughty in my ear. He had been absolutely insatiable ever since the Endarians cured him, and this would be our third bout that day! Our stamina was at Wolverine-proportions, apparently. I smiled at Jean-Paul and promised to do as he wished just as soon as I finished picking a few vegetables for tomorrow's meal.

************

"What did you think of the meeting?" Jean asked Scott as they walked along the beach. Though the evening was still young, their two children were sleeping soundly. The couple was now in the habit of taking walks together in the evening---as always, if one of their kids woke up in distress for any reason, Jean would sense it immediately through her mindlink with them.

"I guess it went about as well as could be expected. I can't blame Moira for asking what she did. I thought your response to her was very good," Cyclops replied. The brilliant Endarian sun was setting in the background, spilling a palate of vibrant colors against the sky. No matter how long Scott had stayed on An'zhina, there was always something new to look at, always a new chance to appreciate its sparkling beauty. Its beauty was somewhat marred for him, though, given what had occurred with the Queen.

Jean nodded. "Yours was too….But Scott, I sensed that there are many people who suspect the truth."

Scott stopped walking and turned to face Jean. "Do you mean that you suspect it out of intuition or suspect it because you entered their minds?" He asked the question without reproach, knowing that Jean had lapsed a bit recently from using her powers ethically. Jean had shared with her husband the incident where she unthinkingly read her father's mind. 

"Just intuition and observation. When Moira was asking us about Lu, I saw the looks on some people's faces….I'm not trying to alarm you, Scott. I just wanted to let you know that I think some people suspect that Marina didn't cure Northstar simply out of the goodness of her heart. It's the only logical conclusion since she hasn't done anything else recently out of pure compassion for us."

Scott shook his head. "Too many people know about the request that she made of me. I should never have told the field commanders. If Rogue told Bobby, who knows who else she told? Who knows who else Bobby told?" Scott felt the anger welling up inside of him and tried to temper it. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

"I believe that Bobby hasn't told anyone," Jean said. "That's just a hunch. That day when you told him that Marina had agreed to it and you were very firm in telling him not to tell….I saw the look on his face and I really think that he's kept quiet about it." Jean paused and then groped for the right way to articulate what was on her mind. "Scott," she began softly, "we know that living in such close quarters with all the other X-men, people have a way of finding things out. I dislike it as much as you do. I don't want people nosing around our personal matters. But I also wanted to say that I personally don't care what others are thinking right now. What does it matter? Each of us has to do things and live our lives in ways that we believe are right. If we get hung up on what other people are saying about us, it could drive us insane."

"Jean, I know that you're right," Scott said, holding onto her hand a bit more tightly. "I know in my mind that you're right…but I'm still angry."

"You have every right to be angry. I'm just glad that you're expressing it instead of trying to choke it down."

***********

Dani Moonstar had erroneously thought that an afternoon on the beach might help lift her spirits. The day after the X-men's meeting, she accepted an invitation to join Storm, Bobby, Northstar, Jeanne-Marie, and Mark for a beach trip. The group picnicked, swam, and played in the sand together. 

All was going well until Jeanne-Marie pointed towards a boat slowly sailing across the water. "Oh, look," she said, pointing, "there's Jubilee and Cannonball. Looks like they're on another date, eh?" Jeanne-Marie sounded touchingly (and uncharacteristically) carefree and genuinely happy for the young couple. She also was oblivious to Dani's angst ---- Dani hadn't told anyone of her misguided pass at Jubilee.

"I heard they really enjoyed their first two dates," Mark said, smiling. He was glad for the couple. He also felt happy to have been invited along with the others for their picnic. He sensed that he had basically been forgiven by the X-men on the whole for the snafu with the dilithium back on board Freedom. Although he could tell that Jeanne-Marie was not thrilled about his presence, the others were usually quite friendly with him.

"Just the two of them on the boat together---quite romantic," Jeanne-Marie continued on. "Looks like they're having an early dinner together too. I hope they have a bottle of wine with them."

"Hey, where's the hummos??" Bobby asked, with just a bit too much verve in his voice. "I can't find the hummos anywhere!!" He made a show of looking through the picnic basket and tossing items out in his frantic search.

"It's right here, _cervelle d'oiseau_," Jeanne-Marie said, tossing the container of the tangy bean spread towards Bobby. "Are you going to die if you don't get some this minute?"

"C_ervelle d'oiseau?_" Storm asked, doing a serviceable job with the French pronunciation as Bobby caught the hummos container. "That's a new one for me."

"It means 'bird brain,'" Jeanne-Marie clarified. She looked at Bobby and added, "Spoken with affection, of course."

Bobby grasped his chest in mock horror, "How you wound my feelings, Jeanne-Marie! I am so hurt!"

"You'll get over it," she said flatly with a barely suppressed grin. 

Moonstar observed their interactions and got the distinct impression that Bobby might've been glad that the subject of Jubilee's date had been abandoned. No matter. She was glad they were off that subject too. She reached for her beer and drank another swig, knowing that she shouldn't. Dani had a history of alcoholism in her family and had studiously avoided alcohol since her teens. Lately, however, she had not been as diligent in shunning the bottle. Watching Jubilee and Cannonball sailing together, obviously enjoying a romantic afternoon, had not helped her emotional state at all. She and Jubilee had not spoken even once since the ill-fated kiss. Moonstar wasn't sure which hurt the most at this point---the loss of their friendship, the rejection, or the fact that she'd been so wrong about Jubilee's feelings.

'No, what hurts the most is watching the two of them together,' Dani thought, looking at Jubilee and Sam in the distance, feeling that knife twist just a bit more. She wasn't in the mood for another session of crying in her room that night, but sensed that was exactly where she was headed once more.

*************

On board the sailing boat, Jubilee smiled as Sam reminisced about his days in Kentucky. His stories were interesting, and Jubilee liked him. He had to be one of the sweetest guys she had ever met.

Of course, the sweetest was Bobby Drake. Jubilee would never forget that day when she first met him. It had to have been more than three years ago by now. In fact, as Jubilee remembered with a tug of melancholy, it had been just about a month before the X-men had been captured by the FOH and the mansion destroyed. Jubilee remembered being introduced to Bobby by Beast, and being taken in by his shy smile and the look in his eyes. He seemed to not even know how good looking he was. She remembered skipping towards the rec room where she'd seen Jean, Storm, Wolverine and Gambit playing cards. As usual, Jubilee hadn't held back about her feelings and told them all about her excitement over the newcomer. Jubilee was crushed when Storm (or was it Jean?) told her that Bobby was gay. Jubilee had maintained a crush on him for a while until it became very obvious that he really was gay and wasn't going to go for her.

Before Bobby, of course, there had been Wolverine. That had been a fierce crush which lasted for quite some time. Deep down, Jubilee had always known that something serious between the two of them would never work, but she'd still harbored the crush for a while, flattering herself with illusions that Wolverine felt something more than the love of an uncle for her. Jubilee realized, with a hint of irony, that Wolverine and Bobby were about as much opposites as you can get, but they were the ones she'd fancied. 

Sam didn't quite tickle her heart the way Wolverine and Bobby had. Jubilee looked at the sweetly charming man in front of her and resolved to try to make it work. Storm would say to give it some time, and let the feelings develop naturally. 

Of course, being that they were X-men and lived lives full of danger (Jubilee missed Colossus, Shadowcat, and the others who had fallen), she wondered how much time they truly had.

***********

Sam smiled and cooed with little Aurora as Jubilee headed for the food replicators to get them some popcorn and beer. Following Cannonball and Jubilee's afternoon boat ride and picnic, they now planned to watch a movie on the vidcam together in her room.

"It's way past your bedtime, sweetie pie," Jubilee said to the girl, upon her return to the room. "Let's read you a story and then get you to sleep." Jubilee and Sam had picked up the child from Rogue and Gambit's care.

"No!" Rory replied. 'No' was Rory's frequent answer to many suggestions. The child-rearing books that Jubilee read portions of told her that this was normal. Though she couldn't help but to notice that sweet little Charlotte rarely acted disagreeable.

"That wasn't a request, Aurora."

"Can I read to you, dumplin'?" Sam asked. 

Rory pointed at Sam and made excited noises. "She's saying she'd like you to do it," Jubilee clarified. "Her books are on that shelf over there."

Following a few quick stories with Sam, Rory soon fell asleep in her crib. Nestled in the seclusion of the room's alcove, the toddler would not be disturbed.

Sam was enjoying their date immensely. He knew that he was good with Rory, which had to have been gaining him extra points with Jubilee. Having a younger sister (whom he missed terribly, by the way), Sam was somewhat of a natural with children. He was liking Jubilee's company quite a bit too. During their dates, she always seemed carefree and comfortable around him.

Sam had seen the movie that they cued up on the vidcam before (the Endarians provided a limited---but high quality---selection of movies to the An'zhinians), but he didn't object to a second run-through of it. He and Jubilee sat together on the small couch in her room to view the film. For the majority of the movie, they sat cuddled together, Sam with his arm around her. 

After the film had ended (and the vidcam seamlessly merged into playing soft music), Jubilee reached for Sam and initiated some serious kissing. Sam responded most favorably. He was extremely glad that she had initiated it, just as he was glad that she was the one who'd asked him out. Within the crowd he'd hung out with in high school, it was considered a tad unladylike for the woman to make the first moves like this, but Sam really enjoyed having the pressure off of him. He simply relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy kissing and touching this beautiful woman.

Despite his ease with Jubilee's more forward style, Sam was surprised when Jubilee started tugging at his shirt. They had been kissing and touching each other through their clothes, but this he had not quite expected. 

"Do you, um, want to?" Jubilee asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied. He managed to stammer out the question, "But, uh…didn't you say that you never did this before?"

Jubilee nodded. They had talked it over on one of their previous dates. Jubilee told Cannonball that little Aurora was a result of "the attacks from the FOH soldiers." No more explanation had been necessary; besides, Sam already knew about the rapes and that that was how Aurora had been conceived. 

"You can guide me through it," Jubilee said, with a little laugh, futilely attempting to hide her nervousness. 

"I'd love to. But…but sweetheart, we should have candles goin' or flowers in the room for this occasion."

"You're so sweet, Sam. It's okay."

***********

It went pretty much how Sam expected it would. There was a lot of kissing and cuddling, and they went very slowly. They had to break away at one point to hastily replicate a condom because Jubilee was not on the pill. (Sam had been shirtless at that point. He donned a shirt for his trip down the hall to the nearest replicator---but only moments before re-entering Jubilee's room did he realize that he'd put the shirt on inside-out and backwards.) The trip for the condom provided a minor interruption, but as soon as Sam returned, they fell easily into each other's arms again. Jubilee let Sam take the lead, which provided a refreshing twist as she usually took the lead on everything else. 

Jubilee didn't have an orgasm, despite the valiant efforts Sam made using his fingers before he entered her. Sam didn't really expect that she would, though, given her inexperience and what he knew about the first time for most virgins. He knew it would likely get easier with time, and she would come to enjoy it more. That's how it had been for Nancy, at least. 

Still, Jubilee was quite brave considering how new she was to this. Sam felt a twinge of trepidation given that she was a survivor of gang rape….but he truly wasn't over-worried. Jubilee always displayed a lot of gumption, and the one time they spoke about the FOH attacks, Jubilee had said that she was "over" it. That night, he did ask her if she wanted to be on top, but she declined. 

The pair kissed and cuddled afterwards, and Sam spent the night in Jubilee's room. When the brilliant morning sun shone through the windows, they showered together and then scooped up Rory to head off for breakfast.

**************

Cannonball, Jubilee, and Aurora walked by Storm and Wolverine on their way out of the dining hall. Finished with the breakfast, the younger couple and Rory exchanged brief 'good mornings' with the older couple.

Wolverine pointedly sniffed the air a few times once Jubilee and the others had moved on. Storm saw the look on his face. He did not look pleased. Storm had a good idea about the source of Wolverine's consternation since Jubilee had confided in her yesterday morning about her hopes for her next date with Sam.

"She is a grown woman," Storm said. She was rather tickled for Jubilee. She could remember when the mildly obnoxious 14 year old had joined the X-men. So much had changed, and now Jubilee had a boyfriend. However, Storm knew that now was not the time to start reminiscing with Wolverine about the teenaged Jubilee.

Wolverine crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm pissed," he finally said.

"She's **23** years old. You can't expect her to live the life of a nun, Logan," Storm said her words firmly, but also with a touch of humor and affection. She was not surprised that Logan was not exactly jumping with joy over this, and she inwardly grinned at his reaction as it was precisely and predictably what she expected.

"I'm still pissed."

"Get over it."

Logan sighed. At least it was Sam. Sam was a nice boy. Though he truly believed that no one was quite good enough for Jubilee, Sam was at least decent. 

"If he ever hurts her, I'll break his bones."

  
Storm rolled her eyes.

**************

My luck had definitely taken a turn for the better. It just seemed that one good thing after another was happening. Two days after the meeting with all the X-men, Hank asked me if I wanted to go to lunch with him. He said, "You and I have not experienced a significant amount of time at leisure activities alone together. Therefore, I would like to suggest that we make such an appointment."

We actually took our lunch up to the hills and picnicked there. I made an ice slide and, with Hank hanging on tight, zoomed us up there. We made small talk for a while, me asking him about Panda's pregnancy and the progress of the famed playset and him asking me how Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie were doing. But at some point, a flash of intuition hit me. I got the idea that he knew I needed to discuss something else too.

"I, uh, just wanted to thank you again for all the work you did on the HIV research," I said.

"It is not necessary for you to offer thanks," he replied. "As a scientist, I enjoy searching for answers. I would have been interested in pursuing a cure for HIV even if Northstar had not been infected. I would have pursued the remedy with somewhat less vigor, assuredly, but the research still would have brought me satisfaction."  
  
"You sure?" I asked.

"Yes. In fact, I plan to continue performing research on HIV, though at a much less intense pace. And, of course, once Rob arrives, I will have even less time. But it is still necessary that we find a cure. We may someday have more HIV infected mutants residing on An'zhina."

"And Queen Marina might not give us a cure next time," I added. I then looked at Hank. Tongues had been wagging like crazy since that meeting two days ago; the grapevine thrived as always. I tried to steer clear of it given what Cyclops had commanded, but I still knew that a lot of people were making assumptions and probably arriving at the right conclusion. Rogue and Gambit had to know because I told them back on board Freedom that Cyke had agreed to it----I just hadn't discussed it with them since we got to An'zhina. Given the number of people who were in the know on this, I got the idea that Hank really had guessed that there was more to this story than he had been told or than had been officially communicated at the meeting.

"Bobby, it's okay," he said quietly, as if reading my mind. "I sometimes infer that events occurred to which I was not made privy. It is alright and I do not need to know every detail about the negotiations with the Endarians. I am not angry about any of it and I do not regret a minute of the time I spent performing research." 

I nodded. "Thanks, Hank. That's good to hear. I mean, I felt like a shit because I couldn't tell you everything, but Cyclops was really clear that I couldn't open my mouth about it."

"Say no more. Everything is alright between the two of us. Jean-Paul is cured, and I am content to leave it at that."

"Cool."

A weight was then lifted from my shoulders. Hank and I finished our lunch, speaking of more pleasant topics. And I'd had the foresight to bring a brush. I brushed out his furry limbs and back, just for old times' sake.

************

It seemed like old days to Jubilee as she, Storm, Rogue and Jean sat on the floor of Storm's room one evening. The bitter scent of sage burning meandered through the air, and the room was illuminated only by candles. The four sat in a circle. Panda and Moonstar had declined to join the group for the healing ceremony this time.

Jubilee scratched an itch on her head. "I can't explain it, but this feels comforting to me, in a way," she said. "This setting, the four of us in a healing ceremony again. It's weird because I was so out of it during our early ones."

"I think our memories and our subconscious retain some details," Jean said, "like the sage and the candles burning. It's all stored in there."

"Yeah," Jubilee replied. "But isn't it weird that I think it's comforting. I mean….we started doing this to recover from one of the most awful things that ever happened to us."

"It is the power of the four of us coming together and supporting each other through the healing process," Storm said. "I find it quite comforting as well."

Silence fell over the room for a few moments. The women had decided to rotate the role of facilitator for their ceremonies, and it was Rogue's turn. "Does anyone have anything she would like to bring up?" Rogue asked. Her lip twitched ever-so-slightly. Part of her still kept telling herself that these ceremonies were corny, but she always made sure to attend them knowing that truly they were beneficial.

"Well, I have one," Storm said, with a slight smile on her face as she turned to face Jubilee. "Shouldn't we commemorate an important event in your life?"

"An important…? Oh. That. Yeah, I finally got laid. Woo-hoo. Sheesh, I'm only 23!" Jubilee wryly commented. 

The group giggled along with Jubilee. "Should we commemorate the fact that up till…5 days ago I was the oldest virgin in the galaxy?" she quipped. "And the only one with a child too." More laughs ensued. 

Storm laughed along with the group and then said, "Well, seriously Jubilee, I am very happy for you, that you have found a man you care for."

"How are things with Sam?" Jean asked. She felt bad, knowing that she hadn't spent much time with Jubilee lately. It was another reason she was glad for their occasional ceremonies---they all got a chance to catch up. Jean had been wrapped up in all that was going on, including just trying to make some time to spend with her family.

"They're goin' great," Jubilee said, glad that Dani wasn't there. The two still had not spoken since that bad incident. If they happened to be on the beach or in the gym at the same time, they studiously avoided each other. Jubilee once walked in the dining room at the same time as Panda and Hank, and they had spotted a table with several X-men including Moonstar. Jubilee had ensured that she and her daughter ended up sitting as many seats down from Moonstar as possible. "He's really sweet and really nice. I always have a good time when we're together. And he's great with Aurora---she really likes him."

"And…how's the sex?" Rogue asked, a grin on her face .She then shrugged, upon seeing a look on Jean's face, "Aww…c'mon, most of our ceremonies end up gettin' on this topic and I thought Jubilee might wanna talk 'bout it since she's now got her own experience."

"It's…it's okay," Jubilee answered, truthfully. "The sex is okay." She had no chance of bluffing with this group; they knew her too well. Besides, she was actually eager to talk about this with someone and this probably was the best setting.

"So….just 'okay'?" Rogue asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I like the kissing and the cuddling. He's real sweet and affectionate. I like falling asleep next to someone. But the orgasm thing ain't been happening. Not for me, anyway."

"Hmmmm. You've gotten them by yourself in the past, right?" Storm asked. She, Jean, and Rogue leaned in closer to Jubilee, eager to help.

"Hell yeah. And it's not that Sam's a bad lover or anything. He tries, he really does. We always do lots of the foreplay thing. I think his hand's practically fallen off a few times."

"Maybe he could go down on you," Jean suggested. "That might do it."  


"We haven't tried that yet. I mean, you know we've only done it like four times."

"You could…show him, so to speak, how you pleasure yourself," Storm suggested. "A demonstration might help him learn the right way to touch you."

"Maybe you two just need more practice and more time. It is still very early in the relationship," Jean said. "It can take time for two people to really get it together."

Jubilee nodded. She then felt hit by a wave of exasperation, looking at her three teammates. "Of course, what would any of **you** really know about this! All I keep hearing about is how great in bed your husbands---boyfriends are!" 

"Oh come now, Jubilee," Storm said gently, "all of us have experienced sex that was….just alright at one time or another."

"Yeah, right." Jubilee crossed her arms over her chest. The older X-women were probably feeling pretty smug now, she thought, and glad that their own sex lives weren't as mediocre as Jubilee's, she thought. `Well, that's not exactly fair,' Jubilee said to herself, cutting her teammates some slack.

"No, it is true," Jean insisted, backing up Storm. Rogue nodded too.

"Okay," Jubilee said, a smile crossing her face, "then tell me about it. I want each of you to tell me about a time---with the man you're with now----when you had lousy sex. I wanna hear it."

Storm, Jean and Rogue exchanged a few looks. `Well, what the heck?' Rogue thought. `That's the kinda information-sharing these "ceremonies" are for.' The looks on Storm and Jean's faces indicated that they, too, would accept Jubilee's challenge.

"Okay, I'll start," Rogue said. 

"Keeping in mind, of course," Jean began, "that everything we say in this room remains here."

"As always," Storm said.

Rogue nodded. All eyes then turned to her, eager to hear her story. "Okay, there really was one time when Remy and I had lousy sex. There was one day where I was just the horniest thing you ever met. So Remy and I made love three times that day. I mean, not three times at once but three times over the course of the day 'cause I kept grabbin' him at different times. Anyway, we were gettin' ready to go to bed an'….I mean, gettin' ready to go to sleep, you know? It was late. But I felt like I really wanted to do it again."

"You horn dog!" Jubilee exclaimed, in mock-horror. The others laughed with Rogue too.

"I know. But anyway, I asked Remy if he wanted it again. He said he'd do it….but I could kinda tell he didn't really wanna. I should've stopped it but I didn't. I figured if he really really didn't wanna, he wouldn't've agreed." The women exchanged a few grins, guessing where Rogue's story was heading. "So we git to it. I'm goin' down on him for like **an hour** an' nothin's happenin.' He ain't gettin' hard. Finally he said not to worry 'bout it, that he'd jus' had too much for the one day, an' then he went down on me. I was feelin' **so** bad by then 'cause I knew he wasn't in to it an' I felt all guilty, like I made him go along with it when he didn't wanna. So by then I wasn't in to it anymore. He ended up goin' down on me like forever an' I only got the world's smallest orgasm. I felt so bad when it was all over. We both ended up apologizin' to each other when it was over 'cause it was so bad."

The group giggled unabashedly at Rogue's tale. A smiling Storm then said, "I have a good one to share too. This one took place on An'zhina, inside my room….actually, inside this very room," she realized. "One time, I ended up laying on my back on the table. I had my legs up and they were practically resting on Wolverine's shoulders. So he's….working away and he's really into it, really enjoying it. Now I'm pretty flexible, but I think I was just in that position for too long and after a while, my back was aching and my legs were falling asleep!" The women again started laughing, and Storm continued, her face with a slight blush. "My fingers were starting to hurt from gripping the sides of the table. I didn't want to suggest changing positions because I could just tell that Logan was having a great time. I'm just trying to hang onto the table, hoping it will end soon. He's usually pretty perceptive but he didn't have a clue that I wasn't enjoying it---I think he thought that I was grunting in ecstasy, not because my legs and back were in pain!"

More laughter ensued. Rogue was cracking up at the image of Storm and Wolverine in such a position. 

Jubilee, through a haze of the giggles, managed to calm down and say, "Well, those were both good stories. But they still were just **one** bad time."

"I can tell of more than one so-so time," Jean said, speaking up. She added, "I don't think my story will be quite as funny as the previous two," she smiled. "But I will say that I understand what you're going through, Jubilee, because Scott and I took a long time before we really got in synch with each other in bed."

"What about your mindlink?" Rogue asked.

"We didn't always have one. It took a while before that developed. But at first, we did a lot of fumbling around, trying to figure out what each of us liked and just trying to get into a rhythm. We loved each other but the great lovemaking didn't just happen automatically. It really took a while," she said, looking towards Jubilee.

Rogue listened to Jean's story and she could not help but to feel a twinge of smugness. The first time ever that she and Remy had made love---through a barrier, before she was able to touch anyone---it had gone blissfully well and Rogue had easily climaxed. `Well, yeah but Scott ain't slept with 60 to 100 women before Jean,' she then told herself. 'Maybe Remy's experience really ain't such a bad thing after all.'

Rogue also considered sharing with the group about how Remy's facial stubble sometimes irritated her inner thighs after they were to make love repeatedly within a short period of time. But the moment for that passed and she decided not to tell the group about it.

Jean then added, "I remember one day, sitting on the floor with Scott, cuddling together. It was still early in our relationship, and we were talking about how good our relationship was and how much we loved each other, and how happy we were together. I said, `And out lovemaking will get better.' Scott said, 'It has to---it can't get any worse.' We were both able to laugh at that." The other woman shared a few giggles with Jean over that. "And now we can really look back and laugh at that because it has gotten so much better," she continued. "It's wonderful now; it just took a few months to get to that point." 

Jean then looked at the group, still smiling, and added, "Sorry my story wasn't as funny as the other two. But sometimes, you just have to build up to great sex and it doesn't always happen right away."

"Like a session in the Danger Room," Storm said. "The first time you walked in there, you probably were not a success. You simply need to continue training and practicing, and then you gradually learn what to do." She then stopped herself and added, "Though perhaps that was not the best analogy to making love." 

More smiles and grins followed. They soon wandered off the topic and Rogue, as facilitator asked what else anyone wanted to discuss. She hoped that no one would ask her for progress on the baby situation. Rogue still was not pregnant, which was disappointing. Her logical side knew indeed that this could take time, but it still was not comforting.

**********

"I want Dani! I can't take any more of this without her!" 

Marrow raged at Psylocke one day aboard their starship. Betsy forced herself to silently count to ten. "Marrow, enough," she replied, her voice quiet but solid. "I am tired of hanging around Endaria."  


"FOH is gonna send more ships, I'm sure," Marrow said, pacing the bridge. She promptly returned to her favorite topic. "I've beamed down to her room on that damn moon **three** times and Dani's blown me off each and every time!"

"A clean sign that she's not interested in you. Give it up! Marrow, it is time for us to break orbit and get the hell out of here. There's nothing going on here, and Roula and Thyme are as bored as I am."

"FOH ain't gonna just ignore the ships and crew we destroyed. They'll send more! Just be patient, Psylocke. We'll have plenty of bastards to kill soon."

Psylocke couldn't stifle a laugh. "**You're** telling **me** to be patient?" she muttered. "Marrow, maybe we oughtta head back to earth now. I want to leave here and get back to earth. We can kick some FOH ass there, and maybe you can go to a lesbian bar and pick up a girlfriend."

"If there are any left. With FOH in charge, I doubt there are many gathering places for lesbians outside of FOH's camps. Besides, I don't want any other woman---I just want Dani! And I'm not leaving Endaria without her!!" Marrow emphasized every word in that last sentence. 

Psylocke shook her head, knowing she'd had this conversation with Marrow a dozen times before, and Marrow would not budge. She was resolute on this. Psylocke's mind began to churn out possible solutions and sought a way for them both to get what they wanted.

************

Once Jean-Paul was cured, it became a very festive time on An'zhina, at least for me. Jeanne-Marie was happier than I'd ever seen her. It was an amazing transformation. The Jeanne-Marie I'd always known was sullen and morose, and rarely smiled (quite understandably, given everything she'd been through.) Once her brother's death sentence had been lifted, she become almost a new person. Jean-Paul told me that this was similar to the way Jeanne-Marie had been---before FOH took over, before all the tragedies that befell her. 

Her happiness spilled over to Jean-Paul too. With no talk of a mission back to earth; indeed, with no way to **get** back to earth, we enjoyed some lazy, fun days on our haven. With, at various times, Jean-Paul, Jeanne-Marie, Rogue, Gambit, Storm, Jubilee, Sam, Hank, Panda --- any combination or the above or occasionally with other X-men as well, I spent my days at the beach, gardening, studying karate, playing with the children, or joining the An'zhinians on some of their endeavors. We took part in cooking classes, an occasional yoga class (I never really got the hang of it but it was fun to try), attending meetings of the "bad art" club where we took scraps and put them together into amateur pieces of art (or junk, depending on your point of view). A drama club was even formed on An'zhina and we watched them put on a production of Hamlet. (Hank absolutely adored it, bad as some of the acting was. I was looking forward to some of the more experimental pieces the drama club promised.) Hector was teaching Spanish to anyone who wanted to learn, and I picked up a very limited vocabulary. 

These were such good times for me, especially because the twins were doing so well. My relationship with Jean-Paul was about as good as ever; we were two men very in love with each other. We went to bed together, woke up together, and every day I rejoiced for the man who was in my arms. When I was with Michael, back on earth so long ago, I never thought I'd meet anyone else as good as him. I especially thought that when Michael and I broke up----but now I see how wrong I was. What Michael and I had together was a pale shadow compared to what Jean-Paul and I now had. I loved Michael, no doubt. But Jean-Paul….I started to think that maybe he was my soulmate. 

The only exception to this joyous time for me was Dani Moonstar, who generally had taken to her room and who I couldn't coax out of her depression, no matter what I said or did. I felt really terrible for her. I'd never fallen in love with a straight guy, but I can imagine what she's going through, being in love with a straight girl and not having her feelings returned. 

Jubilee never mentioned Dani and was quite wrapped up in Sam. I was happy for Jubes. And, of course, I teased her now that her virgin status had been abandoned. She'd just smile and giggle, glad, I assumed to be in a good relationship. Sam seemed like a nice enough guy and miraculously, Wolverine basically approved of him. I don't think Sam realized how fortunate he was in that regard. 

We celebrated Christmas on An'zhina, decorating the common areas and presenting people with replicated gifts. A wide variety of religions were held on An'zhina (and many people subscribed to no faith), so the nature of the group celebrations were nondenominational, though Kurt held ceremonies for the Christians, Storm and Shaman did the same for the earth-based or pagan religions, and Yunfei led some ceremonies for our many rescuees from Beijing, who practiced different religions such as Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism.

We had a special "Christmas" (I keep calling it that, even though I gotta remember it technically was a nondenominational holiday) dinner for just the X-men. We X-men spent a very long evening (though it didn't feel the least bit long) together in largest conference room, which had been accordingly decorated. It felt weird to celebrate Christmas when it was so warm outside (I'm from the Midwest, remember, and used to seeing snow on the ground during Christmas), but Storm didn't want to disrupt the weather on the moon unnecessarily. So we simply turned down the temperature in that room a few notches and drank eggnog, hot chocolate, and spiced cider. Many X-men wore red or green sweaters, or other such items decorated with wintry scenes, which helped make it feel more like Christmas. Jubilee showed off some cute reindeer socks that she'd replicated. 

Each X-man had been given another X-man's name for a gift exchange, and so we swapped replicated presents with each other. To me, the presents didn't mean quite as much since obtaining them was as simple as pressing a few buttons on a replicator. (Shaman had pulled my name, and I received the flower pots I wanted, which would've taken me all of five seconds to replicate myself. I had pulled Banshee's name and punched up a gift-wrapped copy of the book he requested in no time at all. Still, it was a nice concept to have the gift exchange.) 

And this gift giving exchange was really for the children---each of whom received several gifts. Charlotte and Rory, resplendent in red dresses and with bows in their hair, ran around excitedly, opening gifts, kissing their Uncles and Aunts. Just watching them was tremendous fun. (Little Christopher was too young to really get into it much.) 

All of the X-men attended, along with spouses and children (so both Banshee's and Shaman's wives and daughters were with us, though Moira was already an honorary X-man, obviously.) Angel was still dating Jean Grey's sister Sara, so Sara attended too. I noticed that that couple did not sit anywhere near Wolverine and Storm. 

Even Dani Moonstar showed up, which surprised me. She sat near Storm and Wolverine during dinner, and I saw them talking with her. I made a point, after dinner, to go up to her. I knew that Dani loathed "small talk" and yet she didn't want to get into anything too deep either, obviously so our conversation was a little strained. But I was glad that she came. I suppose I don't need to say that she didn't sit near Jubilee and Cannonball.

The Professor made a toast during dinner, in which he thanked all of us and said that he appreciated everything we had done over the years. It was touching and sincere, though I wonder if a bit bittersweet for the Professor. I mean, here we were basically stranded on An'zhina, unable to get to earth, while thousands of mutants were experiencing some intense suffering back home. While we were doing so well, enjoying each other and our slice of paradise in space, the fate of our fellow mutants back home was gloomy. I knew that fact had to weigh on his mind constantly. Still, he didn't show it on Christmas. He said he was sincerely happy that all of us were here together. 

There was just one awkward moment during the merry evening. Jubilee's daughter Aurora, who was talking quite a bit nowadays, made a comment. I'm not sure what brought it on. Maybe all the comments about Panda's pregnancy (little Rob---my namesake!----was due in about seven weeks) and her observation of Hank's interaction with Panda or Aurora's observation of Scott and Jean and their kids. But at one point (during a moment, unfortunately, when conversations had died down a bit), Rory loudly declared, "Want Daddy! I want Daddy too!"

The room really got quiet then. Jubilee kept her composure as awkward as this had to be for her. She said, simply and firmly, "You don't have a Daddy, you have lots of Uncles and Aunts instead. Want another brownie?"

"Yeah!" And that was that. The subject was apparently forgotten in a gooey chocolate haze. The rest of us forgot it too and resumed our conversations.

It really was a wonderful evening, just spending time with all of the X-men. I got to catch up with those I didn't see outside of the Danger Room much. Perhaps fortunately, Jean-Paul and I didn't interact too much with Scott and Jean though we played with Charlotte quite a bit. I had no idea what was going through Scott and Jean's minds or how much they might be resenting us. They seemed to be themselves on the surface, though Scott looked a tad preoccupied. 

Despite how great the holiday evening was, I didn't really get into the holiday from a spiritual side though. I never had. My religious beliefs were still somewhat in limbo. I believed that there probably was some sort of divine force out there, but I didn't subscribe to any particular religious faith or even feel a great need to pray. 

Jean-Paul and I didn't talk about our religious differences too much though; we never had. He still considered himself Catholic and he had attended one of the Mass ceremonies that Nightcrawler held around Christmas. He never attended them at any other time, though he did tell me that he prayed quite a bit. 

Even though we X-men were in a bit of a holding pattern, being stranded on An'zhina, the holidays were a merry time for most of us, it seemed. Looking around the room at the faces of so many people I loved, I felt very very lucky. Or, I should say, I realized how lucky I truly was.

*************

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback is welcomed and adored---and sometimes even acted upon! Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net Also, if you want to be notified when I upload a new chapter, just send me an email.


	10. Chapter 10

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing.

CHAPTER TEN

*************

Nightcrawler had been somewhat surprised at the text message he received from Cyclops two days before the Christmas holiday. Still, the priest was happy to oblige. Scott requested a private session with Kurt to "confess."

Cyclops had never approached Nightcrawler for a confession before. The reason that he had never done so was simple: Scott was not Catholic and the act of confession was not a part of his religion (Methodist). However, Scott felt a burning desire to discuss this with someone----and someone who he felt was close to God.

Cyclops just couldn't see himself discussing this with Professor Xavier. Although Scott got the idea that Jean was right about her feeling that many X-men knew what had occurred with Queen Marina, he hoped that the Professor didn't know about it. He certainly had no wish to do discuss it with his father figure, fearing the disappointment. He knew that Xavier loved him unconditionally but this was not something he wished to share with him.

Nightcrawler, a Catholic priest, was another matter. "It is a priest's duty to keep to himself everything a person tells him during the Sacrament of Confession," Cyclops had heard Nightcrawler once say. "We would never break someone's confidence." 

So he confessed to Kurt. It took place inside An'zhina's small chapel. Kurt noticed that Scott did not look at him (unlike the set-up of some Catholic confessions, they were not separated by a curtain) at all as they spoke. Scott's head was tilted downwards, towards hands that were folded in his lap.

When Cyclops was finished, Nightcrawler encouraged him to pray and to continue communicating with his wife about this. "And most of all, Scott," the elfin priest concluded, "you need to forgive yourself."

************

Later that day, Scott had a role to play with his parental duties. 

"Pee pee, Daddy."

Young Charlotte was in the process of being "potty trained." Charlotte knew about the bathroom and that she needed to learn how to use it, Scott and Jean guessed, but something wasn't fully getting through. When Charlotte announced "Pee pee Mommy" or "Pee-pee Daddy", as she did that day, she only spoke the words **after** she had used her diaper.

"That's a good girl," Scott said softly, as he changed her diaper. "Remember to tell Daddy **before** you need to pee pee next time, okay sweetie?"

Charlotte just smiled sweetly, not seeming to fully understand her father's request. The girl was still on a high from the two Christmas celebrations she had experienced. In addition to the X-men party, Jean's family had decided to hold their own, more intimate Christmas celebration. John and Elaine Grey, Jean and Scott and their two children, Sara Gray and her children, and Warren all celebrated. (Jean and Scott later remarked to each other that it was odd now regarding Warren as a quasi-member of the family. He and Sara **had** started discussing marriage, which would result in Warren Worthington being the step-father of Jean Grey's niece and nephew, an odd concept for Jean to ponder.) Charlotte had immensely enjoyed the attention she'd received at the family Christmas party, especially with her grandparents dotting over her.

But toilet training was still an issue. On some occasions, Charlotte would approach one or both of her parents and ask to be taken to the bathroom. She would then sit on the toilet but only pretend to use it. Her parents would have to play along, flushing the toilet and lifting her up to the sink so she could wash her hands. 

"it's okay," Scott would sigh, looking at Jean. "All the books say this kind of thing is a normal part of the transition from diaper to toilet. We just need to keep at it and she'll learn."

"Thank goodness," Jean smiled. 

*************

Storm loved An'zhina during the nighttime. Flying through the skies at a slower speed, she felt the wind whipping at her face as she looked at the beautiful hills, thick forested areas and deserted beach with water glimmering in the light from Endaria's other moons. She passed over the thriving garden and then turned around to fly over it again, this time closer to the growing vegetation. 

She loved the sense of expansiveness she felt on the moon, outdoors and late at night. The wide open spaces were welcoming and comforting to someone who still fought an ongoing battle with claustrophobia. The evening air was slightly chilly but not anywhere near cold enough to bother Storm. 

Eventually, though, she grew tired and headed back for the room she shared with Wolverine that night. There was no particular reason she left that room for her excursion tonight; she'd simply felt like soaking in An'zhina's fresh air and relishing the darkness outside. Her body and soul still needed to soak it all up after being confined to the cold starship for so long.

Once inside the room, Storm removed the royal blue nightgown she'd thrown on to cover her nudity and took a look at the bed. Wolverine had, in his sleep, wrapped most of the blanket around himself. He tended to do that. She smiled tenderly as she retrieved a second blanket----that, along with the heat from her lover's body, helped warm her body once again. 

Wolverine was tossing and turning. He didn't do it every night, at least not to Storm's knowledge, but his sleep often seemed to provide more of a disturbance than a rest. 

The next morning, Storm rose early and brought breakfast in on a tray. 

"You hungry?" she asked. The scent of black coffee, sausage, and pancakes with butter and syrup drifted through the air. 

"Not yet," he answered, sitting up and still quite groggy. "But I'll be soon. Thanks for bringin' this stuff here, darlin.'"

She sat next to him. "Another nightmare?" she asked, her voice soft and smooth as tea with honey.

"It ain't exactly a nightmare," he answered. She was surprised that he seemed willing to talk about it this morning. She'd queried him a few times before about his dreams but he had not wanted to talk then. "I think they're memories. Stuff that really happened."

"Are they disturbing memories?"

"Yeah, some of 'em." He shook his head. "I just can't figure it out. Some of it seems like it oughtta've happened before the war and some of it after." Wolverine had once shared with Storm that his memories of fighting in World War II were among his only clear memories. Much of his life before and after the war was lost to him.

"Do any of these memories keep reoccurring?" She placed an arm around his back, gently but firmly. "If you don't want to talk about this, by the way, you know that's alright with me."

He smiled. "Yeah, I know darlin'. I don't mind talkin' 'bout them with you." He paused and took a breath. "I was married once before," he began. This was the first time he'd mentioned it to Storm. "But I can't even remember her name and I can't figure out when this was. It might've been a long time ago. She was an Asian woman… Japanese, I think. She was terrified of me," he said with a note of finality. "I see her face in my dreams a lot and I don't know much other than that we were married and that she was afraid of me." 

He paused then said, with a note of emphasis and finality, "Can't figure out if I ever gave her a reason to be."

"The Wolverine I know would never harm an innocent person."

"Maybe I wasn't the Wolverine you know then." He shrugged off her shoulder.

Storm let the silence stand for a little while. "Well, all I can say is that I know your heart is good and honorable and incredibly compassionate. And that I love **you**….no matter what might have happened during your past," she said. She resumed resting an arm around him. 

He was quiet for a few moments. "Darlin', you're too good to me," he said. He gave her a quick kiss before reaching for the breakfast tray.

************

"Ouch!"

"Chere, dat is not the reaction dat a man wants to hear when kissin' his beloved in the mornin'."

"Sorry, Remy," Rogue said. "My skin's been real sensitive lately---at leas' the skin on my face has. I think it's that new moisturizin' cream that I replicated. Sorry, sugar, but I think my skin's too touchy right 'bout now for your stubble."

"Musta felt like a cactus against your face, eh?"

Rogue reached with a hand to playfully run her fingers along Gambit's facial hair. "I'll go back to replicatin' my usual type of skin crème and I hope my skin will get back to normal. I can't go for too long without bein' able to kiss you, Remy," she said sweetly.

Rogue then went about her day. After a Danger Room session with Gambit, she headed off to talk with Storm and Bobby about decorations for Panda and Hank's baby shower. (Although back on earth, baby showers were usually "girls only" events, the X-men had decided to have the celebration all together.) 

In the afternoon, she decided to take a leisurely stroll and found herself at the volleyball courts. She sat back on a folding chair with an iced tea and watched the game take place. `An'zhina sure is getting big,' she mused. Three hundred twenty people now made An'zhina their home. Rogue watched the game, realizing that she couldn't recall the names of most of the players.

But one of them she knew well: the former FOH solider named Mark.

Rogue watched him play, unable to remain dispassionate about the feelings he stirred up. `He's havin' a good time playin' volleyball on An'zhina while his buddies---his former buddies---are practically wiping out all of mutantkind back on earth.' Rogue tried to swallow that last piece. As much as she enjoyed living on An'zhina, spending relaxing days with Gambit and her friends, entertaining dreams of someday soon becoming a mother, she realized how much luck was smiling upon her. Especially as compared to many other people.

Rogue also realized the paradox they were in. It didn't seem right to say that they were "stuck" on An'zhina. 'You can't be "stuck" in a place you love,' she said to herself. But until the X-men somehow procured more dilithium, their hopes of returning to earth and saving fellow mutants were stuck indeed. `Maybe Cyke oughtta ask Queen Marina 'bout a return engagement in exchange for some of dilithium,' Rogue thought to herself. She and Gambit, however, had discussed this topic many times before. `Yeah, it's easy for me to say that 'bout Cyke. If it was Remy the Queen was after….we'd be talkin' a different story here. I really gotta go easier on Cyke.'

Rogue turned her attention back to the volleyball game. The team that Mark played on apparently had a sizable lead and seemed to play well together. The league diligently kept score of the games and ranked the teams based on their successes.

"Hi, Rogue," Mark said, once the game was finished, his team the victors. "What do you have there?" he asked, gesturing towards her drink.

"Iced tea," she replied. 

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, reaching for his water bottle and sitting down in the folding chair next to hers. 

"Not at all," she said. Mark was displaying a bit more confidence, Rogue noted. He used to be withdrawing and quiet, the very way he stood seemed to mutter an apology. It had gotten worse after his mistake in engineering. But since returning to An'zhina, his countenance had been slowly changing. Perhaps playing on the volleyball team shored up his confidence, Rogue wondered. 

She truly did not mind spending some time sitting and talking with him either, as they shot the breeze about the volleyball league and random other subjects. Rogue hadn't had a conversation with Mark for the longest time. She didn't detest him the way she used to and besides, she really had nothing else better to do. 

"Life back at the mansion," Rogue found herself saying, "was always a lot of rushin' around. We had one emergency after another to deal with----Sentinels, Magneto, Apocalypse. We didn't go for too long without running off to take care of somethin'. It's a lot different here. Got more time to drink tea and talk."

"Is it hard for you to get used to?" Mark asked. 

"Nah. In fact, I think I get used to it way too quickly. Life's a lot easier this way. But I keep rememberin' what Professor X useta say. Somethin' like he doesn't desire to lead an easy life but rather a **moral** one."

"He's a great man," Mark murmured. 

There was a pause for a bit. A question then jumped into Mark's mind, and he asked it. "So, does anyone know your real name, Rogue? Or is it a secret?"

"I like keepin' it a secret. Remy knows it. And the Professor," she added. "But when I married Remy, I decided to take his last name. Good riddance to my old last name! Not that anyone uses their last names 'round here too much." Ridding herself permanently of her father's last name was more of an emotional casting away than anything else. 

"What is Gambit's last name? I can ask that, right?" Mark asked out of curiosity, realizing he had no idea. He always heard the man referred to as "Gambit" and only very occasionally as "Remy." 

"It's LeBeau. What about you? What's your last name?" Rogue asked. She had no idea what Mark's surname was (and hadn't ever really cared either.) But now she felt a simple stab of curiosity and decided to ask.

"Burroughs."

Rogue nodded. And then a light bulb went off in her head. The ship's logs from Freedom had long ago been downloaded to computers on An'zhina, and Rogue had been doing some file cleaning a few days ago. She had been scrolling through the names of the FOH soldiers who had been the crew of the ship. She remembered a "Michael Burroughs" on the roster. The name had stuck out only because as a child, Rogue had lived down the street from a family with that surname. She had looked over the information about that Michael Burroughs and determined that he was not a member of the family she'd known, based on the information in the logs about his background. But how interesting it was that Mark shared a sur name with one of the crewmembers of the FOH ship….and that, as Rogue suddenly recalled, he **had** mentioned having a brother in FOH.

"You said you had a brother in FOH right?" Rogue asked, knowing the answer.

Mark inwardly winced at the look on her face and tone of her voice. He knew what was coming. He **had** told the X-men that a brother of his had been in FOH. He had never shared with anyone the fact that his brother had been a member of the crew on board Freedom. But he knew that Rogue had a remarkable memory and that she had recently been cleaning through the ship's files. "Yes," Mark answered quietly. 

"Was your brother on board this ship?? On board Freedom?" she asked, her voice slightly rising.

"Yes."

"I see," Rogue said, nodding. "So did he brag to you about how good torturin' us X-men was goin'?? Did he send you an email tellin' you how much he liked it??"

"No, no," Mark said, shaking his head. "He hated it just as much as I did!" he declared passionately. "He **hated** doing that. We both wanted out of the Friends of Humanity!"

"Then you should've left!" Rogue responded, harshly. 

Mark bit his tongue to keep from saying that it just wasn't that simple. He also let his guilt and shame overpower any of the anger he might have felt about his own brother's death at the hands of the X-men. 

Rogue had so many questions burning in her mind as she fought her urge to physically attack Mark once more. `That won't do any good,' she told herself, though her voice in her head sounded like Gambit's or the Professor's. `More violence isn't the right way to handle this.' She wanted to ask Mark what he felt when he was raping a mutant prisoner, what was going through his mind and his body? But she also did not really want to go down that path. She didn't want to relive it. Rogue remained quiet as waves of anger surged through her.

"If it makes you feel any better, the pills the soldiers take make them impotent."

"What??" Rogue asked.

Mark had blurted out the declaration without thinking. He felt he had to say something to break the awful silence, and he wondered if Rogue would like to hear about an unpleasant side effect the FOH soldiers experienced. "The pills that the soldiers take to…you know," Mark tried to explain. It was well known that the FOH soldiers took pills that gave them erections. All of the female FOH camp survivors talked about the bottles of pills that were stored near their beds for the soldiers to take---and Rogue remembered most of the soldiers on board taking pills as well. "If you take them for a while, you can't get an erection without them. So all the FOH soldiers---well, most of them, I think---are impotent without the pills."

Rogue turned her head to look at Mark. "Serves 'em right," she said, with a tug of satisfaction. "Jean did say once that you were hidin' something but it wasn't anythin' we had to worry 'bout or anythin' that would put us in danger. So that must'a been it then. That your brother was on the crew of Freedom."

Mark nodded. "I'm sorry, Rogue," he said quietly.

"So what about your little problem? Are you gonna be impotent forever?" She didn't care about possibly hurting his feelings by asking embarrassing questions; she was so angry at him.  


"I don't know. I thought it might pass since I haven't taken the pills for a long time obviously---but it hasn't passed. I don't wanna bother Hank or Moira with this since they have bigger fish to fry. And it's not like I'm gonna have a girlfriend anytime soon." Wracked with guilt over his FOH days, Mark had not approached any of the women on An'zhina about dating. And once they learned that he was a former FOH soldier, most of them steered clear of him too.

They sat in silence for a long while, not looking at each other. Two people took to the volleyball net and started playing. Rogue finished her iced tea, got up and walked away without a word to Mark. `What about Jubilee's daughter….?' Rogue wondered. There had been over 200 FOH soldiers on board Freedom and the likelihood that little Aurora's father was Mark's brother was a remote possibility. Was it worth telling Jubilee and possibly upsetting her? Should Mark submit to a blood test? 

************

In an estimated six weeks' time, my best friend Hank would become a father. Inspired one afternoon, I sat down to write him a letter.

Here's what the letter said:

__

"Dear Hank,

Soon you and Panda are going to be parents. You're going to be a Dad for the first time in your life. I'm so happy for you that I wanted to sit down and write you a letter and tell you how much you mean to me. I wish I could use poetry the way you do or a famous quote, but I don't quite have that knack so I'll just have to use my own words. 

I know I've said it before but I also wanted to say again that I'm honored you and Panda decided to name your son after me. Really, you are the one who deserves such a big tribute, not vice versa.

Your son is going to be one lucky kid. He's going to have a father who listens to him, who takes the time to laugh and joke with him. He's going to have a devoted father who's gentle and kind but firm when he needs it. So many times in my life, you've been like an older brother to me. My two "real" older brothers were distant and not caring towards me, but you always were how I dreamed an older brother might be – supportive and full of wisdom. Your kid is also going to be lucky to have a wonderful mom like Panda too. 

Sometimes I like to pretend that the past is behind me because there are so many painful memories in my past. But I can never forget how you saved my life that time. I was about to end my own life but you intervened, and you insisted I get counseling. If it weren't for you, I definitely wouldn't be the person I am today and I probably wouldn't even be alive. I've been thinking about this a lot lately and about how you saved my life then. So I just wanted to take this time to thank you for everything you've done for me and to tell you how big of an influence you've been on me.

Sincerely,

Bobby"

Yeah, it was mushy but so what? It was all true. I wasn't fully happy with the final paragraph but after writing and re-writing it a billion times, I decided to just let it stand as is. I sealed the letter inside an envelope and slipped it under Hank and Panda's door.

*************

"Panda, look at this lovely letter penned by Bobby," Hank said to his wife, clutching the letter in one furry hand. Hank felt that Bobby wouldn't have had a problem if he shared the letter with Panda. He knew that his best friend and his wife didn't always get along perfectly, and he wanted Panda to take a look at Bobby's loving side.

Panda walked over to where Hank stood and he handed her the letter. Walking still provided no problem for Panda. Although a large woman who was now "very" pregnant, she still moved with ease and even with a bit of grace. She was, of course, not as agile as her husband---but few people were anyway.

"This is very nice," Panda said, her eyes on the letter as she seated herself next to Hank on the bed. "Quite touching," she added, sincerely.

"I am, indeed, very touched by what Bobby wrote."

"And what he says is true, I'm sure. I know you'll be a great Dad." Panda spoke firmly, trying to help shore up Hank's confidence. He had told her of his own father who had a distant relationship with his children and his own fears about unwittingly mimicking that pattern.

"And you shall, I am certain, be a wonderful Mother, just as Bobby wrote."

Panda smiled and glanced down at the note again. The final paragraph caught her eyes this time. She had merely skimmed it when she read it the first time. "Has Bobby had any more suicide attempts since then?" she asked.

"None to my knowledge," Hank replied. "I am quite certain that he would have informed me if he had."

"Whatever happened the first time around?" Panda asked. She smiled and added, "I know you told me a bit about this a while ago, but I don't remember too much of the details."

"I certainly do not mind telling the story one more time. And I am certain that Bobby would not object either." Hank took a breath and began. "The genesis of the situation occurred not long after Bobby first joined the X-men. Well, truthfully, the problem began much earlier than that, however I can speak in detail of only when I first became acquainted with Bobby. He was a very young man then, of perhaps 17 or 18 years. He and I became friends shortly after we met and I truly enjoyed his youthful spirit, his carefree attitude, and his penchant for initiating so-called 'practical jokes.'"

"So you two were friends right from the start?" Panda asked. When Hank nodded, Panda asked, "Did Bobby always seem depressed?"

"Yes. I soon detected that beneath his carefree surface lurked quite a bit of tension and despair. I queried him numerous times about these matters, asking him repeatedly about the source of his distress and whether I could assist him. Bobby always insisted that nothing was the matter and that I need not be concerned."

"Did other X-men notice something was wrong?"

"I believe so. Jean and I discussed the matter a few times, and she was extremely concerned about him. Cyclops also commented that his performance as a member of the team was never up to the standards he expected and steadily declining from there. The Professor was also greatly concerned----both in regards to his performance as an X-man and his mental health. However, none of us were successful in convincing Bobby to confide in us."

"What was the main problem? Was it that he was gay?" Panda asked. She knew that this was the obvious answer but wondered if there might have been other problems as well.

"His depression stemmed from, I believe, an inability to accept that fact and to view himself as a worthy human being. He had internalized our society's contempt and loathing for homosexuals, which resulted in Bobby suffering from both depression and anxiety at times."

"So, did you suspect it? I mean, suspect that he was gay?"

"The thought did not cross my mind until he started dating Polaris." At Panda's quizzical look, Beast clarified, "Polaris was the code name of a young woman, Lorna Dane, who was a member of the X-men for a brief duration of time. She and Bobby began to date each other. I hoped that having a girlfriend would enliven his spirits, however Bobby seemed no less depressed after their courtship had begin. Additionally, when I watched the two of them interacting, I generally sensed that Bobby was falsifying something. I could detect that he was not acting in an authentic manner, and that he was also experiencing feelings of guilt.

"So I again," Hank continued, "encouraged him to share with me. I made several comments which I had hoped would convince him that I bore no ill-will against homosexuals in general. And yet still he preferred to not confide in me. During this time, I experienced feelings of helplessness as I watched my friend grow even increasingly depressed. Thus, I made the decision to share my observations with the Professor and to convince him to periodically monitor Bobby's mental condition."

"You mean like….do mental check-ins with him?" Panda asked.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I know that there are numerous and legitimate arguments that might suggest this would be akin to privacy invasion. However, the Professor never probed Bobby's mind on any sort of detailed level."

"He just did occasional readings of his emotional state," Panda finished for Hank. She remembered her husband telling her of this piece. 

"Exactly. I informed the Professor that I felt Bobby might attempt suicide. The Professor then decided to monitor Bobby's mental condition, and therefore knew when he was at the depths of despair where he would commit such an act. 

"That time arrived not long afterwards," Hank continued. "Apparently Mystique was attempting to blackmail Bobby. She was going to reveal his sexual orientation if he did not provide her with classified information about the X-men's defenses, the mansion and the Blackbird -- our jet. Bobby felt as though he were between the proverbial rock and hard place, and he was prepared to take his own life. The Professor sensed his emotional state and intervened, thank goodness. So truly Xavier deserves the credit for saving Bobby's life. I sometimes feel that I could have done more to assist my friend."

"Well, honey, if he didn't want to open up to you after you asked him hundreds of times ----what else could you have done?" Panda asked soothingly. "He was really lucky to have you." She paused and then asked, "What happened, though after….after the Professor stopped him from doing it?"

"That is when Bobby and I were finally able to have a discussion regarding all of these matters. He confided in me at last. I felt that it was the first time that we truly had an open and honest discussion, even after we had been friends for so many years."

"It's hard to imagine Bobby keeping so much to himself," Panda said. "Seems like nowadays he wears his emotions on his sleeve." 

Hank nodded. "I believe the time he spent in therapy changed that aspect of his personality significantly. He was not always so open. I used to liken him to a pressure-cooker, as if he were keeping explosive contents simmering just beneath the surface."

"Then it must've been pretty wonderful that you and Bobby finally sat down and talked about everything," Panda commented.

"Yes," Hank said, nodding. "However, the more we talked, the more we agreed that he needed some time away from the X-men. He had these discussions with the Professor too, and he concurred as well. So it became a bittersweet time----though glad that Bobby and I were closer as friends, I also saw that it was also the beginning of his time away from the X-men. Our friendship was finally blossoming for real but then he left shortly afterwards. You see, I performed much research and found a therapist who would be supportive of his sexual orientation. Bobby then went into intense therapy, often meeting with his therapist 3 to 4 times per week. He also went off of active duty as an X-man, so to speak, meaning that he ceased training and no longer partook in missions. He did remain living at the mansion.

"However, only three to four months after he began therapy, Bobby decided that a change was in order and he moved across the country to San Francisco. I now believe that he saw it as a way to gain a fresh start on his life. He wanted to create some physical and emotional distance from his past, as it was a difficult one. Although glad for the fact that Bobby reached a decision he felt confident about, I was quite melancholic at his going-away party as I sensed that he would not return for a long time."

"And he **was** gone for a while, right?"

"Yes. He actually was away from the X-men for seven years and two months. He once told me that he never intended to stay away for such a long duration of time. I think that perhaps he simply became **comfortable** with his life on the West Coast. He eventually acquired a boyfriend and a job, and I think it became difficult for him to consider breaking away from that for a life of dangerous missions in the X-men."

"And that was a tough time for the X-men, right?"

Hank nodded. "Very, very shortly after Bobby went on hiatus, our lives in the X-men became extremely busy and complex. Wolverine, Rogue and Gambit joined us----and later Jubilee----and then simultaneously we faced the Sentinels, Magneto's return and the first rise of the Friends of Humanity. To use a cliché, the situation 'snowballed' from there. We were soon battling Mr. Sinister and Apocalypse as well. In between these bouts of chaos, Bobby and I occasionally emailed each other. We also spoke on the telephone upon several occasions. I quite missed him. The Professor and Jean also maintained some form of contact with him. But we were not successful in convincing him to return to the X-men until I personally flew to San Francisco and explained to him the gravity of the situation with the second rise of the Friends of Humanity. He rejoined us, and approximately four and one half weeks following his return to the mansion, we were captured by the Friends of Humanity and brought out into space."

Panda nodded, glad to have heard the full story. "Thank you." She planted a kiss on Hank's cheek. "And Bobby's right. You're an incredibly wonderful friend, and our son will be very lucky."

*************

"I hate to say it Remy, but it serves him right."

Rogue made that declaration to her husband over dinner that day. She and Gambit had chosen to eat together by candlelight in their room.

"Can't argue wit' dat," he remarked, though he sensed Rogue didn't really "hate" to admit her feelings on the subject. But if the pill that the FOH bastards took to get erections forced them to eventually depend on pill, it was indeed poetic justice in Gambit's book. He smirked, "Dose FOH soldiers always accusin' us mutant men of bein' not able to get it up. Guess we know it be a bit of the pot callin' the kettle black."

"Damn straight," Rogue added. "But Remy, what should we do 'bout the other thing Mark told me earlier today?"

"You mean dat his brother was on board Freedom," Gambit said. 

Rogue nodded.

"Small galaxy, ain't it?" Gambit murmured. "So one of us---you or me or Wolverine---killed Mark's brother."

"You don't need to make it sound so dramatic, Remy. It ain't like the son of a bitch didn't have it comin' for him."

"Oh, I agree chere. I don't regret dat we did it one bit." He paused. "I don't remember anyone who looked like Mark."

"Me neither. But I didn't really look at those bastards' faces that much."

"He could've died in combat," Gambit added. Many of the FOH soldiers had died during the battle that ensued when the X-men had been freed from their cell by Bobby (as opposed to those FOH soldiers who survived the skirmish only to be killed one night by Wolverine, Rogue and Gambit.) During that battle, Rogue, Gambit and Wolverine had not been the only ones fighting fiercely and causing casualties.

"That's right," Rogue nodded, as if reading her husband's mind. "Cyke was usin' his laser blasts, Storm was firin' thunderbolts. An' I think Colossus might've killed a few soldiers in combat too."

"We were all pushed to the edge," Gambit said.

"So what 'bout the possibility that Mark's brother was….the father of Jubilee's daughter? I hate to use the word 'father' though, since the piece of hog slop didn't do anythin' to deserve the title."

"Chere, I dunno if it be wort' lettin' Jubilee know. What would really change if his brot'er was the father?" he asked before taking a swig of his drink.

"Yeah, so Mark could be Aurora's Uncle? Big deal. Family's what you make it and not necessar'ly who you're related to. Xavier was much more of a real father to me than my own one ever was."

"You said it, Rogue. Like when Rory asked at Christmas for a Daddy. Jubilee did a great job in answerin' her. She said dat she already had lots of Uncles and Aunts, and dat what be really important." 

Rogue smiled. "I remember Storm suggestin' that to her once. I think it was a long time ago, back on the Paradise planet, and the two were talkin' 'bout it. Storm told Jubes it was only a matter of time before Rory would start askin', and she suggested that reply to her."

"Dat Storm a smart woman." Gambit then paused, "T'ink 'bout it dough, chere, maybe we makin' too much outta dis. What be the odds dat Mark's brother was the one? Dere were over 200 men on board dat ship."

Rogue said, "And that's another reason why I think it maybe ain't worth tellin' Jubilee."

Gambit nodded thoughtfully. He was quiet for a bit before he said, "I can t'ink of only two reasons to tell Jubilee. The first one is maybe if Mark's brother was the father, den maybe from a medical standpoint it be good idea to know. We can ask Mark if dere are any medical problems dat run in his family."

"I hadn't thought of that," Rogue said quietly. "I'm sure Hank would tell us it's a good idea to know as much as we can 'bout family medical histories. Even for us mutants to know." She took a bite of her meal and then asked, "What was the second reason, Remy?"

"The second reason is dat I don't t'ink we gotta make it into dis deep dark secret. What you an' Jubilee lived t'rough was 'orribe an' everyt'ing….but Jubilee seems to be doin' alright now. I don't t'ink dat we gotta keep dis from her like we be protectin' her. If Mark's brother turns out to be the father, she can deal wit' it."

"You know, you got a good point…We got enough secrets goin' on in this team. Do we need another one?"

"'Specially if dere ain't a good reason to keep it a secret," Gambit concluded. 

The couple soon turned their attention from this matter to more pleasant ones. When finished with their meal, Rogue scampered over to where Gambit sat and they cuddled together. She later flew them to the other side of the moon where they watched the brilliant sun set in the distance, nestled in each other's arms. 

*************

One afternoon, Storm had been leading a "healing circle" of female survivors of the FOH camps. Storm did not usually lead such groups due to the fact that it was agreed that a consistent facilitator was ideal, and Storm had often been away on missions to earth. But most or all of the camp survivors knew her; she would always work quite extensively with them during the journey from earth to An'zhina. So one afternoon, she facilitated an outdoor ritual with a group. 

Upon the conclusion of the ceremony, Storm received many hugs and 'thank yous.' She noted that the survivors appeared to be functioning remarkably well mentally, considering all they had lived through. `We mutants have such an extraordinary capacity to bounce back,' she thought.

While walking back to the main complex, Storm heard her communicator bleep, signifying the receipt of a text message. She called up the message. Psylocke and Marrow were requesting a meeting with "the X-men leaders" as soon as possible.

Less than an hour later, Storm, the Professor, Cyclops, Rogue, Wolverine, and Hank were seated inside the main conference room with the video hook up. A few buttons were pressed, and Marrow and Psylocke's images looked back at them through the screen.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" Storm asked. She spoke without bitterness or anger, perhaps with a touch of amusement.

"It's simple. We want to make a trade with you," Marrow answered. 

Storm's first reaction was a gut impulse of fear. Months ago there had been Wolverine's affair with Psylocke. And before that, when Psylocke had been with the X-men, she'd pursued him aggressively. What if…..? But then Storm took a good look at the two women's faces. Marrow looked eager and excited. Psylocke looked bored and perhaps even a tad embarrassed or annoyed.

"What sorta trade?" Rogue asked, though she had an inkling already. The Pirates possessed the one thing that the X-men sorely needed in order to ever get back to earth: dilithium.

Although all the X-men's leaders were present, they agreed beforehand that the Pirates seemed to prefer dealing with women instead of men. Therefore, it was suggested that Storm and Rogue do the bulk of the talking.

"We'll give you dilithium---enough to get you to earth and back, with some to spare. In exchange, we want one of your X-men to join us," Marrow stated. "Dani Moonstar."

The X-men exchanged looks with each other. "You want Dani to join you?" Storm asked, stunned. She knew that months ago, when she and Dani had been on board the Pirates's ship, Marrow had requested to spend some time alone with Dani. Moonstar later said that nothing had come of their time together.

"I doubt she's gonna be much interested," Rogue said, shaking her head. The gall of the Pirates was truly unbelievable.

"Well, that's the offer. Enough dilithium to take you on a round trip to earth in exchange for Dani joining our crew," Marrow stated. "Tell her she can take all the time she wants to think it over; we'll be hanging around Endaria for a while longer."

"I can tell you with almost complete certainty that the answer will be 'no'," Storm said.

"That might be the case. But remember, my former teammates," Psylocke began, looking at Xavier, "if you ever want to get back to earth and change the lot of the thousands of mutants being tortured by FOH, you need dilithium. I doubt that you want to ask Queen Marina for some, and it's not going to just fall out of the sky either. Think long and hard before you say no to this."

The Pirates then terminated their conversation and the screen went blank.

"This is not our decision to make at all," Charles began solemnly. "The decision must be made by Moonstar."

The X-men leaders then proceeded to debate whether or not to even relay the Pirates' insane request. 

"Is this some kinda trap?" Wolverine asked, looking at the Professor.

"No," Xavier answered. "I shared that concern as to whether or not this is a trap or part of some grand scheme, so I probed Marrow's mind. She has no intention of tricking us and this is not a trap. Their intentions and their proposal, however ludicrous, are **honest**."

"Well, I question whether or not we should even bring this to Dani's attention," Storm said. "We cannot expect her to leave us and live with the Pirates. It is, as you said Charles, ludicrous. If we even mention this to Dani, she might feel obligated to accept their…offer."

"Not if we're direct and open," Cyclops had argued, "and we make it clear that the choice is hers."

"I think it's better than not tellin' her 'bout it," Rogue offered. "We should at least tell her what happened. In the spirit of bein' honest."

Xavier nodded. "I think that she does need to be….forewarned. The Pirates obviously have an interest in her and she needs to know about that, if she does not already. After all….it is a grim prospect to entertain, but the Pirates might someday decide to beam her away from An'zhina. Moonstar needs to at least be aware that she is the subject of this debate."

"I agree that at the very least Dani should be informed of the Pirates' proposal," Hank said. 

"She's an adult and can make her own decision," Wolverine agreed. "But we definitely gotta make sure we let her know that we don't expect her to agree to this bullshit. 'Cause I'm with Storm and I don't want Moonstar feelin' like she's gotta sacrifice herself for this."

"She is just the type who might do that," Storm said. "Sacrifice her wishes for the good of the group."

The X-men leaders debated for just a little while longer. Storm was still not thrilled with the idea of telling Moonstar about this, but she reluctantly came to agree that a policy of full disclosure would be the best one. 

Not long afterwards, Dani Moonstar arrived at the large conference room. Seeing the faces of all the X-men's leaders, Dani cracked a smile and said, "Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?"

Cyclops smiled at her comment. He hadn't interacted with her much but he noticed that lately she hadn't seemed quite as happy and carefree as she had before. It was a bit unusual to hear her making a joke as of late, and he liked it. 

"Not at all," Storm said. "Please come in and have a seat."

"This still feels like I'm back in school and getting called to the principal's office," Dani said, shaking her head as she seated herself in an empty chair. She then darted a glance at Xavier. "Not that that really happened too often."

"Dani, we have some information which we wish to share with you. The Pirates contacted us and offered us a….a ridiculous exchange," Storm began. "One which we do not expect you to agree to. In fact, we fully expect you to refuse their proposal. Any of us in this room would refuse, I am certain."

Dani tried to keep her facial expression neutral, though her heart began to drop. She had an inkling as to the nature of the Pirates' offer – at least as to one end of their request. Marrow's incursions into Dani's room easily provided a foreshadowing.

"The Pirates offered to give us dilithium…in exchange for you joining them," Xavier said. 

Dani kept her face blank. "What did you tell them?" she asked after a second or two of silence.

"We told them that we were almost certain you would refuse their offer. And Dani," Charles said, his face breaking into a grim smile, "none of us expect you to agree to this….ridiculous proposal. We bring it to your attention in the interests of full disclosure and because we want to ensure that you know what is happening."

"But we don't expect you to agree to this," Storm said. "The very idea is insane."

"How much dilithium did they say they'd give the X-men?" Dani asked.

"The promised enough to get us to earth and back."

"And in exchange I need to join them forever?" Dani asked.

"We did not ask them for the specific duration of time," Hank said. "We assumed that they requested your joining of their group to be permanent, or at least indefinite."

"Hmmm," Dani replied. "When did they say they needed an answer by?"

"You're not considering accepting this, are you?" Storm asked, leaning forward in her seat. She tried to temper her alarm.

Dani was quiet for a moment. "I don't think so. But I would like more information."

"They said that you could take as long as you wanted to reply," Cyclops said. "They sounded like they had no plans in the near future to leave Endarian space."

Dani nodded. "Did they say anything else?"

"Quite honestly, we didn't pump them for too much information. We were so certain that you would refuse this offer….Certainly any sane person would," Cyclops continued.

"I probably will say no," Dani said, nodding. "But I wanna think about it for at least a day, okay?"

The X-men had no objection to that. They talked about reconvening the following morning, and the meeting was soon concluded.

***************

"Logan, we have to stop her! **I** will stop her, if no one else is willing." Storm said those strong words to her lover shortly after the leadership meeting. 

"Storm, we gotta let Dani make her own decision," Wolverine said. "I hope she's gonna say no. But it's her decision to make."

Storm shook her head. "I hope she will refuse too…but I am gravely worried that she is going to martyr herself so that we can receive enough dilithium for another trip to earth. We cannot allow Moonstar to be guilt-tripped into this ridiculous exchange!"

Wolverine reached for Storm's arm as if to gently hold her back. "Just give her some time, darlin', before you go talk to her. The meeting just got out. Give her a few hours to think it over before you try to influence her. Dani's a real strong woman and she's gonna do what she thinks is right . Give her a chance to work that out in her head."

Storm took a breath and nodded. "Alright," she answered, accepting his thoughts on the matter. "There is wisdom in that."

Wolverine looked at her deep blue eyes and remained unconvinced that Storm liked the idea of Dani making up her mind about the dilemma.

*********

A few hours after dinner that evening, the sun began to set on An'zhina and the alluring darkness gently started to bathe the moon's outdoors. `It has been several hours since the meeting,' Storm thought to herself. She touched a few buttons on her communicator to contact Dani Moonstar.

"It is Storm. Dani, I would like to speak with you now. Is that possible?"

"Of course, Storm. You can call me and come see me anytime, you know that."

"Thank you, Dani. Where are you now?"

"I'm sitting on one of the hills right now. The one nearest to the beach."

"I will find you." With that, Storm gracefully ascended into the air and flew towards the hill Moonstar spoke about. She easily spotted the young woman. More accurately, she heard her first. The evocative sound of Dani's flute playing spun through the air. The song was one of such heartbreaking sadness that the indomitable Storm nearly winced at its sound. The music sliced through the night air with its rendition of painful sorrow. 

"That was lovely," she murmured, once Dani's song was finished. Storm had landed near Moonstar and slowly walked towards where the younger woman sat cross-legged on the ground.

"Thank you, Storm. A compliment from you is always sweet."

"Your playing is, I think, some of the most beautiful music I've ever heard. Truly." Storm lowered herself to the ground, sitting next to Dani. 

"Well, you and Jubilee have both learned how to play the flute beautifully too. So you won't miss my music so much." Dani's spoke with a note of finality to her voice.

Storm closed her eyes at Moonstar's words. "Dani, you cannot be serious about this," she breathed.

"If the X-men can go on another trip to earth, the lives of countless mutants can be made better. A lot of suffering can be relieved. A little sacrifice on my part won't kill me."

"Have you really thought through what this means to **you**? You are going to be living with Marrow and Psylocke---and those two other women---day in and day out. Marrow is a cold-blooded killer and I think that Betsy is partially insane now. They **both** likely are insane; at the very least, they are both mentally unstable. You might be expected to take part in their killing sprees."

"Storm, I can hold my own. I can deal with whatever they toss out."

"It is entirely possible that Marrow might expect that you supply her with….sexual favors."

"It won't kill me," Moonstar said, her voice emotionless.

"You would really consider giving up this?" Storm swept her arm as she spoke, as if to highlight the gorgeous An'zhinian scenery. "All of this? For a life on a starship with Marrow and the others??"

Moonstar shrugged and looked straight into Storm's eyes. "Storm, to be honest, I'm really miserable here. I mean it. I----I'm in love with Jubilee," she admitted, her voice cracking, "and she hates me now. I can't stand watching her with Sam, rubbing salt into my wounds. I gotta get out of here, away from her. Away from **them.**"

Storm took a deep breath and nodded. Moonstar's admission explained a lot of things. Storm had known that the two friends had had some sort of falling out. No wonder Dani had been so depressed….far more depressed than even one who had lost a friend. And no wonder Jubilee had rushed into Sam's arms so quickly.

"You cannot run away from your problems, you know," Storm's soothing voice spoke.

"Yeah, I know….but hanging around here's not really doing anything to make them better either. I love being an X-man but I'm just not happy here."

Both women were silent for a few moments. Moonstar then added, "As far as I see it, this will be good for me personally and good for every mutant on earth. Everyone wins. The X-men get a chance to return to earth and do some good for the planet, and I get away from Jubilee and Cannonball." She paused. "I can deal with Marrow and Psylocke. Whatever they throw out, I can handle. But I wanna get away from Jubilee and Cannonball --- I **need** to---, and staying here is driving me crazy."  


Storm reached for Moonstar's hand and held it. "One request, Dani. Please wait 24 hours before you say anything to the others. Think it over. Please. Use this time to give it some more thought and try to see the other side to this."

Dani voiced some agreement to Storm's idea, though she secretly felt that nothing would change her mind.

***********

The sun shone on An'zhina the following morning. The X-men leaders had mentioned their meeting with the Pirates to very few people. Hank hadn't said anything about it to anyone----partially because it had truly slipped his mind. He had other concerns to deal with and because he couldn't fathom Moonstar agreeing to the Pirates' crazy exchange, he simply didn't think that it was worth mentioning to anyone.

Storm, however, could not drive thoughts of Moonstar leaving from her mind. "The girl would be throwing her life away. She shows so much promise as an X-man. We have always mourned the lack of leaders and the lack of An'zhinians who have wanted to join the X-men. We found a star in Dani --- someone who has fit in so well with us, and shown so much promise, and who works hard----and I cannot believe that she might be leaving us."

Wolverine listened to Storm's worries. "Darlin', you know I agree with you. I'd hate to see Dani leave. But if she wants to go, we can't try to stop her. It's gotta be her decision."

Storm was preoccupied with this dilemma all day. She saw Dani during an afternoon training session. "Shall we talk after dinner?" Storm had quietly asked her in the gym.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

Dani spent much of the day in prayer and meditation. She headed for An'zhina's lush forest, knowing that the awe-inspiring view of the thick trees and fertile outdoors would help her search for the right answer. Dani found a spot by a small river and sat in meditation for a few hours in the forest. Taking the time to slow down and reflect, she became aware of the sounds and movements around her----the gentle rush of the water, the singing of birds above, the rustling of branches in the mild wind.

Her placidity was interrupted by another sound ---- the sound of laughter. 

"Sam, you silly goof!"

It was the voice of Jubilee---the woman Dani loved---interacting playfully with the man she loved. The two apparently found a picnic spot down the river a way. Their laughter and giggles ripped through the air, smashing Dani's meditation, digging that knife in just a bit deeper.

************

"It was a sign from the Goddess, Storm," Moonstar found herself saying hours later when she met with Storm, as promised following dinner. The two woman sat inside Dani's room, facing each other. "I was praying and meditating, hoping to receive an answer. Hearing the two of them together was like a knife in my heart, as it always is. It was a clear sign."

"Was it really a sign, Dani or could it be perhaps that we allow our own expectations and pre-judgements to color what it is that we see?"

"C'mon, Storm," Dani said, crossing her arms over her chest, "I thought you believed in signs from above."

'I do. I am just asking you to look at what occurred in the forest from another angle. Perhaps it was the Goddess's way of suggesting that you remain here and try to work things out with Jubilee," Storm said. 

"You can't just 'work out' a broken heart. She doesn't feel for me what I feel for her. She's mad at me."

"And running away will never repair your friendship. Or your broken heart."

"But maybe it will help ease the pain. Storm, I have made up my mind. I'm ready to go tell the other X-men. I've decided what I want to do."

Storm shut her eyes. She, too, had spent most of the day mulling over the prospect of Dani leaving….and what the ramifications of that might be on her life. "I ask one thing of you," Storm began. "Please, wait another day before announcing it to the group."

"Why?"

"Please, Dani, do as I ask. Trust me with this. Tomorrow you can tell Xavier, Cyclops, and the others at breakfast. But please….just give it these twelve more hours. For me?"

Moonstar agreed. Storm seemed to be dealing with something else in her mind, though Dani was not in the mood to probe just then. Besides, she knew Storm didn't like to open up anyway. "I will wait. But my decision will remain the same."

*************

Storm walked down the corridor towards her own room, her heart heavy. Moonstar's resoluteness and determination were unwavering; nothing would dissuade her from the decision she had reached. This left Storm with a heartbreaking decision of her own. She was already fairly sure which route the Goddess wanted her to take.

"Logan, it's Storm. Can I speak with you now?" she asked, over her communicator.

"Sure, darlin'. I'm by the gardens."

"I will be right over there."

Storm moved through an open window and then took flight. She reached her lover's side in less than a minute, and sat down next to him on the ground.

"She has decided to do it. She's decided to accept the Pirates' offer," Storm began, gravely, her voice just above an anguished whisper.

"It ain't the end of the world, 'Ro," he said, with unusual softness as he reached for one of her hands and grasped it. "Maybe we make a bargain with them. We tell 'em that Dani can live with 'em for one year and that's it. Then we want her back."

Storm exhaled. She'd been swept up in her own thoughts and worries, and had not considered that option. "That is indeed a good idea, Logan. One can tolerate anything if one knows that it will come to an end."

He nodded. "I know it ain't the perfect situation. Anythin' can happen in a year's time. They might disappear halfway across the galaxy and not return. But we can ask them to make a pact with their honor, like we did with them. Maybe we say that once a year is up, we meet with 'em at a designated place---maybe here---and they give us Moonstar back."

"I like that." There was silence for a few moments as the two sat on the ground, looking at the green riches of the gardens. Two An'zhinians were working the other end of the garden doing some weeding. Other than that, the area was quiet and tranquil. "There is another idea which I think I will suggest." She turned her head and looked at him. "I want to suggest that I go with Dani."

"What??"

"We can't let her go alone," Storm said. "It would be a living hell for her to be in exile like this. I cannot fathom her living with those….maniacs, even if it is for merely one year. She needs someone else there, another sane person she can be with. I am her closest friend here---well, the closest one since she and Jubilee had that falling out. She needs another X-man with her. I volunteer for that."

She reached over and touched her hand to his rough cheek. "I know," she said. "I know what you are thinking. I have been contemplating this idea all day, and the very thought of being separated from you is pure torture to me. I love you, Logan. I cannot bear the idea of being away from you for a year."

"Darlin', I can't bear it either," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. He knew that once Storm had set her mind to something, stopping her was as futile as trying to stop a swirling hurricane.

"But we must do the right thing, and I believe that the right thing would **not** be to simply let Moonstar walk into this…hell alone. If there is one thing we've learned as X-men, it is that we need to support each other and not allow others to battle their demons alone. Moonstar will need someone else with her. And we X-men need that dilithium if we are to ever get back to earth and help save the mutants there, who are no doubt living their own lives in hell too." She paused. "The Pirates might try to hurt Dani. Physically hurt her. Her powers are still under-developed and not nearly as strong as mine. I think that she needs someone there to protect her."

Logan listened to her words and nodded. His mind and his sense of honor agreed with the logic as much his heart and his instincts wanted otherwise. But a glint of hope remained. "The Pirates might not agree with this," he said.

"I know. They might consider me too powerful and not allow me to come with. But Marrow and I, at one time, were not enemies. When she first came to join the X-men, she and I….well, I cannot say that we 'bonded' but we did have a rapport, at least. Perhaps she could override Psylocke's veto of my presence."

Wolverine shut his eyes tightly and grasped her hand even stronger. "I know," Storm repeated quietly, her voice soothing. "I love you. This will be difficult. But maybe we can get them to agree to your idea. One year only. One year is not such a long amount of time."

"I think what you wanna offer is the right thing," he said. "You are a very generous and noble woman, Storm. I wish I was that noble. Wish I had the honor you got."

"Why Logan….to me, you are the very definition of **honor**," she breathed.

"No I ain't…Cause I'm sittin' here hopin' and prayin' that the Pirates refuse to take you with them."

**************

TO BE CONTINUED

****

Question of the week---Do you think the X-men should ever return to earth permanently? Do you want them to? Any guesses on what I have in store for them, in terms of whether they ever return to earth permanently?

Your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net Also, if you want to be notified when I upload a new chapter, just send me an email.


	11. Chapter 11

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing.

CHAPTER ELLEVEN

**************

The following morning, the X-men leaders found themselves reassembled in the same conference room as when the Pirates had made their insane proposal. Dani Moonstar joined them this time.

"….and so I decided that for the good of all mutants on earth," she was saying to the group, "that I am willing to agree to their terms and leave the X-men to be with the Pirates."

Moonstar faced the shocked expressions that her teammates now wore on their faces. Nearly an hour of debate and discussion followed, with the X-men (aside from Storm) attempting to dissuade her. 

"None of us here expect you to be a martyr," the Professor was saying. "None of us would expect you to throw away your life like this."

"Dani, girl, you don't gotta do this!" Rogue said. "None of us would hold it against you. We want you to stay here."

Statements such as those continued on, but Dani remained firm. Wolverine brought up the idea of bargaining for the Pirates to keep Moonstar with them for no longer than one year.

"I don't trust them much," Rogue said in response to that. "We can ask them to give us Dani back in a year but what's gonna make 'em do it?"

"If we gotta go to battle against 'em to get her back, then we do," Wolverine said. 

"There is one other piece," Storm began. "I am going to go with Dani. If she is to be…held captive with these women, then I must accompany her. To protect her and to help preserve her sanity."

Another maelstrom ensued. The other X-men attempted to change Storm's mind as well, though they knew fully that once the Wind Rider had decided upon something, there was no stopping her. Storm had told Moonstar of her plans to accompany her just prior to the meeting. Dani had debated and argued with her, insisted that she certainly did not need a chaperone, but Storm gave back to Moonstar every ounce of the stubbornness that Moonstar had earlier shown Storm. 

Still, during the meeting, Dani tried to argue with Storm's idea again. "You don't have to do this for me, Storm," she said at one point. "I can take care of myself. It's okay."

"I must insist. Dani, we X-men do not abandon each other."

The arguments continued on. Storm listened patiently but held firm to her decision.

Rogue blinked as she participated in and watched the meeting unfold. Part of her could not believe what she was seeing. Storm, who was one of her best friends, possibly leaving the X-men for a year. Or for potentially much longer than a year, as who knew what would be in store for the X-men or for the Pirates? Rogue really couldn't imagine being deprived of this steady rock of wisdom in her life. 

'Guess I gotta stop bein' selfish here,' Rogue told herself. `Poor **Wolverine**. He looks crushed.' After all these years, she had a sense as to what her gruff, old friend was feeling despite his well-honed defenses. 

"Look, we have argued and debated enough," Storm said, standing up out of her seat causing all eyes to turn towards her. The meeting had been going on for approximately one and a half hours now. "The decisions have been made. The X-men can continue on without myself and without Moonstar. We need to focus on doing whatever it takes to aid the mutants back on earth! Enough deaths have already taken place, enough suffering. The Friends of Humanity are torturing, raping, and killing mutants with impunity, and we must do whatever it takes to stop it! The Pirates have dilithium and we need it to get back to earth. Whatever…sadness I shall endure being separated from you is insignificant compared to the suffering of our brothers and sisters back home!"

The Professor listened thoughtfully to Storm's impassioned statements and he nodded. "I agree with Storm. Let us now contact the Pirates." As much as he loathed the thought of Storm and Moonstar leaving, his hopes and his dreams still lay with the mutants back on earth, and on healing the divide between mutant and human. As dire as the situation on earth indubitably was, his dream still smoldered within his heart. 

Moments later, Marrow and Psylocke's images looked back at the X-men leaders. "Have you made up your mind yet?" Psylocke asked. Fleetingly, Rogue knew that given Betsy's powers and her propensity for invading the minds of others, Betsy had to know the answer to her question already----if she wanted to.

"Yes. We wish to make you a counteroffer," Storm said. "We agree to your proposal, but with two alterations." She paused for emphasis and then spoke, "First, we will send Dani to live with you, but it shall be **for one year only.** After one year's time, you will return Dani to us. Secondly, during that year, **I** will also be joining your crew. I will accompany Dani."

Psylocke's surprised expression indicated to all that she had not used her telepathy to enter the X-men's minds, though it was anyone's guess as to why she had not. She and Marrow looked at each other.

"Stand by for a few minutes," Psylocke ordered, and shut off the viewscreen.

The X-men remained mostly silent for the two or three minutes that Marrow and Psylocke apparently discussed the counteroffer. 

'Too late to turn back now,' Logan thought. `The offer's on the table. It's too late now.' He was not the type of person to raise his hopes or to even wish for the best. But he found himself making a fervent entreaty to the universe.

Only once during the agonizing wait for the return of the Pirates did Storm and Wolverine lock eyes. He turned his glance away.

The screen flickered and once again Marrow and Psylocke's faces appeared before them. 

"We accept your terms," Marrow stated.

***************

I couldn't believe it. I'd had two days to digest it, but I still couldn't believe what was happening. As I walked into the rec room, I tried to squelch the lump in my throat. 

"I hope I don't cry," I said to Jean-Paul.

"If you do, it's okay, amour. It is only human," he responded, and squeezed my hand a little tighter.

We were throwing a going-away party for Storm and Moonstar. A mere two days after the negotiations with the Pirates had occurred, we were having this party to wish them bon voyage. As Storm had told us at the meeting (a meeting which was held, apparently, hours after the Pirates had agreed to our terms), it is not truly a going-away party but rather "'till we meet again." So that would have to do.

I saw that the rec room was festively decorated, and music from our DJ Russ played. I remembered the last big party I'd attended here, when we X-men had arrived back from our journey. The food, music and decorations were more or less along the same themes but here, in contrast, the mood was decidedly somber. The party was being held partly in the rec room, but it also spilt out onto one of our largest porches. For some reason, I didn't feel like going outdoors that afternoon.

I surveyed the room. It was odd. Most of the X-men socialized together and the non X-men An'zhinians tended to cluster together, keeping away from us. They mostly were hanging out on the porch --- the rec room itself held far more X-men than non X-men. It's like the non X-men consciously backed off and gave us some space. Why exactly that occurred, I wasn't sure but I sensed that they held us in some sort of awe and respect. Or maybe they were just afraid that we'd try to recruit them and make them do some actual work. : - ) 

"I can't believe it," I found myself mumbling. We ended up sitting on the sofa; I was next to Jean-Paul, and his sister was on his other side. "No Storm or Dani for a whole year. I just don't believe it."

"It could be longer than a year, even," Jeanne-Marie responded, her voice quiet. "You know the chaos and uncertainty we live with. Once you separate from someone in space, who knows if you shall ever see them again." She then turned and looked at me, "I know it sounds grim but it is the truth."

"It will be okay, Bobby," Jean-Paul said. "We'll get them back in a year's time. With all the power and resources the X-men have…." He let his voice trail off. Moonstar could be seen walking towards where we sat and I'm sure he didn't want her to overhear anything. She stood and spoke with Nightcrawler for a while before she came over and sat on the sofa with us, on my other side.

"So you and Storm are leaving tomorrow?" Jean-Paul asked.

"Yep," Dani replied. "I'm pretty much all packed. Not that I have much besides a flute and a few pairs of clothes. And that book on karate from Wolverine." She had a smile on her face. Since she had told me the news a few days ago, I had never seen her looking at all sad or depressed. I truly wondered how much of it was just an act. If it was a performance, she was doing a job that would've done proud by the best of Hollywood actresses. "What about you guys? There's an X-men meeting tomorrow, isn't there?"

I nodded. "I guess we'll talk about the details of our next trip to earth. We'll probably leave not long after you do. Once we get the dilithium, we can go."

"Jean Grey has said that she'll do telepathic check-ins with you two for as long as she can," Jean-Paul added. 

"That'll be cool," Dani replied. "Rumor has it that Jean and Scott are gonna go on the next mission to earth again."

"Interesting," I said. I looked at Jean-Paul. Spending time with Scott and Jean on an enclosed starship could be 'interesting', to say the least. We pretty much avoided Jean and Scott on An'zhinia, which was easy to do given its size and how many things there were to do. But put us on a starship with limited common areas in which to "hang out", and a different picture is there. Avoidance just might not be possible, and that thought didn't make me too happy.

"We might not leave so quickly, though," Jean-Paul said. "What about Panda and Hank's baby? She might want to have the baby here, instead of in space."

"Oh yeah, I hadn't thought of that."

We chatted some more with Moonstar for a while. Again, I marveled at how calm and accepting she seemed of her fate. Soon, a song came on that Dani liked, and she and Jeanne-Marie headed for the dance floor, to join those who were dancing.

"I actually feel better that Storm's going with," I said to Jean-Paul. "For Dani's sake, I mean. Of course I don't wanna see either of them go, but I'd fear for Dani if Storm wasn't there to protect her."

"Yes, I agree," Jean-Paul said, keeping his voice low. "If Marrow and Psylocke start to abuse Dani, I'm sure Storm can protect her." He paused. "Poor Dani. She must be completely heartbroken to agree to this. I never guessed that she had it so bad for Jubilee."  


I shook my head. "But can you imagine what she is walking in to? A year roaming around the galaxy with Marrow and Psylocke, attacking FOH ships. And with Marrow maybe forcing her to…." I let my voice trail off and added, "sounds like pure hell to me."

He nodded. "Can you imagine what **we** are walking in to as well?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I murmured.

"Another mission to earth, possibly more encounters with the FOH….we'll probably have to stop at that strange planet to retrieve our shuttle and God only knows what awaits us there." Jean-Paul had a very far-away look in his eyes, and a very….**fearful** look. 'Fearful' is the only term I can think of to describe this and, trust me, he was a man who did not often display fear. But he had this look in his eyes….as if we was only just now really thinking about a journey to earth again would mean.

He looked terrified.

"Jean-Paul?" I whispered. I reached for his hand and held it. "What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak but our moment was interrupted when little Aurora bounded up to us. Jubilee and Cannonball were right behind her. They sat next to us on the sofa and we chatted about nothing in particular, as Jean-Paul and I played with the toddler. 

"You're growing bigger and bigger every time I see you!" I said to the girl as I held her. She smiled and waved her arms happily. She **was** getting bigger too. Someday soon, I guessed, she would be a little girl and no longer a toddler.

The next time I looked back at Jean-Paul, his usual expression had returned. But I remained worried by the look I'd seen in his eyes---I'd never really seen anything like that on his face. 

*************

Although the party was being held partly in her honor, Storm had a difficult time socializing that afternoon. She was content to sit at one of the bar stools, flanked by Rogue and Gambit.

"If those crazy shitheads don't keep up their end of the bargain, we're gonna find you," Rogue vowed.

"I know," Storm said. "I am not afraid of that. Truly, I am relieved to be going with Moonstar. If she were to be going with the Pirates alone, I would fear for her day and night. It is much better this way." She look a look at Gambit and saw the consternation all over his face. "You do not look as if you agree, Remy."

Gambit shook his head, not meeting either woman's eyes. "What's dere to say? Gonna miss you, Storm."

She reached a hand out to touch him, resting it gently on his shoulder. "And I shall miss you, Remy. You know that I shall miss you both terribly."

He nodded, his eyes still not meeting Storm's. His gaze was directed towards the floor. 

"Friendship lasts forever," Storm continued. "No matter how long we're separated, our caring for each other will remain."

"But it just ain't gonna be the same!" Rogue said.

"I know," Storm replied. 

Rogue began a reply, thought better of it, and closed her mouth. The three then sat together for some time in silence. Gambit's words kept repeating themselves in all of their minds. `What's dere to say?' Truly, there was not much else to talk about. None of them wanted to get emotional in public. Duty and honor were driving forces in their lives, and duty and honor required that the X-men return to earth and improve the lot of mutants there. As much as part of them all wished, deep down, to continue their life of luxury and joy on An'zhina, duty and honor did not allow this. No one was particularly thrilled with the way things worked out.

And Rogue and Gambit both knew, of course, not to bring up the subject of Wolverine. Obviously Storm would miss him terribly, and the feeling would be mutual. No point in dwelling on that subject either.

"I regret mainly that I cannot prevent them from killing anyone," Storm said, after the lull of silence. The Pirates had beamed down an agreement for Storm, Moonstar, and all the other X-men leaders to sign. It promised that the Vengeance would return Storm and Moonstar to An'zhina within one year's time. The two X-men, however, also had to make a promise. Storm and Moonstar were forced to agree not to prevent the Pirates from torturing and killing any FOH soldiers. "This will be a difficult promise to keep. I abhor what Marrow and Psylocke do to the soldiers, even though the soldiers themselves have committed heinous deeds. I am not sure whether I will be able to bear standing by while human beings are killed, and I worry whether I shall became as cold and callous as they."

"Storm," Gambit began quietly, his voice just above a whisper. He reached to hold one of her hands. "Dere ain't a more sensitive or carin' person in the galaxy. You ain't at any risk of losin' dat."

Rogue smiled, a bittersweet smile full of resignation and the beginnings of acceptance. "Remy's right, sugar." She grasped Storm's other hand. "We're gonna miss you so much, girl."

Much later, when Storm was no longer sitting at their side, having gone off to bid farewell to someone else, Rogue murmured to Gambit, "Storm's always been my best girlfriend. Since I joined the X-men—God-knows-how-long ago. At least ten years," she added. "It's gonna be so hard without her."

Gambit reached over to put his arm around her. "At leas' we're still toget'her. Can you imagine what Wolverine's goin' 'drough?"

Rogue shook her head. "I can't. I can't imagine that." She paused and added, "Part of me thinks we oughtta just **take** the damn dilithium from the Pirates! But I know that's wrong."

"Had the same t'oughts myself, chere," he said, with a smile. "Had the same t'oughts myself. At leas' dere's one bright t'ing to come from all dis. We're gonna be goin' back to earth. Gonna be gettin' the chance to free the mutants from FOH. T'ink of the difference we'll be makin.'"

*************

"So rumor has it that at the meeting tomorrow, we're gonna talk about heading back for earth," Jubilee said to Sam. The two were taking a break from dancing and found themselves leisurely sipping drinks together. Hank was playing with little Aurora nearby.

"I actually can't wait to get back there," Cannonball said. "Even if we don't beam down to the earth itself. Just the thought of bein' closer to where my parents and sister live makes me happy. Jean can do another mental check-in like she did before and just let me know that they're alive and well. It makes all the difference to me."

Jubilee nodded, liking that Sam was so concerned with his family and, apparently, had been such a caring older brother to Paige. And, as she reminded herself frequently, he was so good with Rory too.

Mark Burroughs then spotted Sam and Jubilee across the rec room and walked over. As Mark and Sam were friends, Jubilee upon occasion found herself hanging out with the two of them, sometimes along with Hector as well. Jubilee didn't mind too much. She didn't think she'd ever be close with Mark or consider him a friend but she decided that she could tolerate him.

Incidentally, not long ago, Rogue and Gambit had shared the news with Jubilee----that Mark's brother had been one of the FOH soldiers on board Freedom. Mark had consented to a blood test, and the lab results had confirmed that there existed no biological relationship between Mark and Rory. Rory's "sperm donor" (Jubilee's words) had not been Mark's brother. 

Jubilee wasn't sure how she felt about Mark's brother having been one of the soldiers who had assaulted her. She knew that Mark wasn't responsible for the actions of his brother but she also knew that Mark, too, had committed similar acts----just somewhere else with some other women. 'The thought of that oughtta freak me out more than it does,' she said to herself once. Mentally, she shrugged and tolerated the presence of Mark.

"I'm gonna get some more punch," Jubilee said. "You guys want some?"

"No thanks," Sam and Mark replied in unison. Jubilee then walked over to the drink station. A festive bowl of spiked punch, complete with bits of fruit floating merrily on the surface, was ready for the ladle. A bowl next to it contained non-alcoholic punch. Jubilee opted for the alcohol-enhanced version.

"Excuse me, Jubilee."

Jubilee turned and found herself standing face to face with Dani Moonstar. 

"Hi," Jubilee stammered. The two had so studiously avoided each other for so long that coming up with words to say felt quite awkward. They hadn't spoken since the ill-fated kiss. "How's it going?"

"It's going okay," Dani answered. From the look on Dani's face, Jubilee guessed that the feeling of discomfort was mutual. "I – uh—have something for you." She thrust a small item into one of Jubilee's hands. "It's a tape. Of some flute music."

"Thank you," Jubilee replied unenthusiastically. She looked at the tape, glad to have somewhere other than Moonstar's face to direct her gaze at. "That's really nice of you." She continued to study the tape. 

Moonstar hesitated, as if contemplating whether or not to say something else, but she just forced a quick smile and said, "You're welcome." She then turned and walked away.

Jubilee wished that the cute dress she wore had pockets. Jubilee didn't often dress up but, for this party, she had donned a pert, bright red dress with a short skirt and spaghetti straps. She loved her look this evening (especially since she'd received many compliments; she was more formally dressed than almost anyone in attendance) but now wished she had a pocket to stick the tape in. Jubilee walked over to Rory's diaper bag and found a pocket there in which to deposit the tape.

Jubilee had not felt like discussing what occurred between the two of them with anyone, and she had not brought it up with anyone, outside of her brief conversation with Bobby that one evening. As much as she hated to admit it, she still felt grave discomfort when thinking back to Moonstar's misguided kiss. Truth be told, she still felt a twinge of disgust. She simply was not attracted to Dani---or to any woman---and was more than a bit annoyed that Dani had thought that the situation might be otherwise. 

'Did I do something wrong? Give off the wrong signals?' she wondered. But then Jubilee argued with herself, `Of course not! Dani was the one who should be like totally embarrassed at what she did. I didn't do anything wrong!' Jubilee could not honestly say she felt any woe at Moonstar's impending departure.

Storm, of course, was another matter entirely. At one point during the somber party, Jubilee found herself sitting in a corner of the room with Rogue and Jean. The two girls, Aurora and Charlotte, played near their mothers and Aunt Rogue. "I still am going to have such a hard time accepting this," Jean murmured, shaking her head. "Storm's going to be away from us for an **entire** year."

"She's been our leader, in a way," Jubilee said. "I mean, a leader of all of the X-men, plus a leader of us girls too." She then quickly corrected herself, "Women."

"You got that right," Rogue said. "She pulled us together after that….that crap with the soldiers and got us into those healing ceremonies. Sometimes I thought they were right corny but they helped us so much."

"And she is such a great leader of the X-men overall, too," Jean said. She smiled wryly, "Don't get me wrong; I think Scott is a wonderful leader too, of course. I've always felt their styles complimented each other very well. We'll be missing something by her departure." She sighed. "I just keep telling myself that at least we know she's coming back."

"You can get through anything if you know it's gonna end in a set period of time," Rogue said. "Somehow we'll get through a year without Storm." She shook her head. "Ya know that Remy and I been tryin' to get pregnant. Part of me's hopin' now that it'll take a while longer, 'cause if I get pregnant soon, Storm ain't even gonna be there for the birth. That would be such a loss for us."

Jubilee looked down at her hands and nodded. She thought back to her own pregnancy and how, at times, it had felt as if it took an eternity. Storm would be gone for that amount of time plus three whole months! 

*************

Hank and Panda were sitting together on one of the porch swings just outside of the rec room. The farewell party continued on, and this couple had socialized quite a bit during the event. They now had decided on some quiet time for themselves. Although some of the merry-makers were mingling on the porch, it was far quieter there than in the rec room.

"If we get the dilithium tomorrow, the team can leave for the mission any time then, right?" Panda asked, though she knew full well the answer.

"Yes. Jessica, have you changed your mind at all?" Hank asked.

"The more I think about it, the more I really want to have the baby **here**, on An'zhina. Not aboard a starship."

He nodded and held her hand. "Rob is due to be here in six weeks' time. I am certain that we can persuade the rest of the X-men to delay for six weeks' more time, so that we can all be present at the time of the birth. Many babies are early, as well."

"In the grand scheme of things, six or seven weeks isn't too long," Panda said. 

"That is quite true."

Panda then wanted to say more but held her tongue. She was irresolute about her future and she had not spoken to anyone about this, not even Hank. 

She didn't want to bring the baby on the next mission. 

`We've had too many catastrophes on our missions,' Panda had thought to herself. `Last mission we lost our dilithium and almost didn't make it back here. Before that, we've been captured by FOH –Colossus was killed and it was just blind luck that it was him they shot, and not Hank. And even before that, on another mission, Wolverine, Gambit and Bobby were once captured and taken halfway across the galaxy to work as slaves before we found them. Our track record really isn't that good….and I'm not subjecting my baby to that.'

Hank had not guessed at her uncertainty. Or if he had, he gave zero indications of it. `Sometimes he gets so wrapped up in the lab, that he doesn't notice that much,' Panda thought. `He'll probably be pretty surprised when I bring this up.' The thought of bringing it up, and the discussion and debate that was certain to ensue, did not appeal to her. She dreaded it for a number of reasons, but the main reason kept repeating itself in her mind.

'If it came down to staying on An'zhina with me and the baby or doing his duty with the X-men…I think I know which Hank will choose.' Panda knew, and she didn't like it one bit. 

************

"I will miss two of my X-men," the Professor was saying to me at the party. He and I found ourselves sitting near each other at one point, and I'd asked him how he was doing. "Moonstar has shown such promise, and Storm has always been a first-rate leader and team member. But I remind myself that we shall be reunited with them in one year's time."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. On a personal level, I'm going to miss them both like crazy myself."

"I continually question whether or not this is the right thing. Even if Moonstar and Storm both made the choice freely, how much of a choice was it? And what are we allowing them to turn themselves over to? Is it right to allow a young woman like Dani go to the Pirates?"

I looked at the Professor and knew that he truly was agonized. I had to guess that part of him was secretly thrilled at the idea of the X-men returning to earth and helping our cause there. He probably felt torn and quite a bit of guilt. The poor guy. I took a closer look at his face and saw wrinkles that I hadn't noticed before and bags under the eyes that I swear hadn't been there before. He'd told me that living on An'zhina helped to rest and relax him, and I guessed that had to be true, but from looking at him I also knew that he continually agonized over all of his X-men. 

The conversation was kinda weird too, because I couldn't recall him ever expressing how he felt about something like this with me. I mean, he's like a teacher or an uncle to me --- not a confidant.

"I can imagine how much this bothers you," I began, feeling very weird at the idea of **me** comforting the Professor. "But you gotta know that they are adults and they can make their own choices."

We then turned to look at Shaman, who was standing in the middle of the rec room, trying to get everyone's attention. The party had been going on for a while and I sensed that some were getting ready to call it a night when Shaman stood up. Russ turned the music off so Shaman could be heard. "Thank you for your attention, everyone," he began. "Before we leave for the evening, I would like to invite the X-men to participate in a ritual. This is a ritual of farewell, so that we can say a temporary goodbye to Dani and Storm, and so we can remind ourselves that we shall all be reunited soon."

This must've been impromptu; I hadn't know that he was planning a ceremony. But Shaman's rituals were not to be missed; each one I had attended had been among the most truly awe-inspiring experiences I'd been a part of. I know that sounds like a lot of hyperbole, but it's true. I'll always think back to the group healing ceremony he led on Freedom, **way** back when, just weeks after we'd been freed of FOH. I always view it as a turning point. So I gladly joined the group that evening as we filed out of the rec room and headed for the forest. 

Before I knew it, we all were standing around in a circle. Basically, the same group of X-men as had been at the holiday celebration were outside, with a few exceptions. Jean Grey was absent; I bet that she had to put Christopher to bed (Charlotte and Rory were with us though---the two girls seemed too stirred up even though it had to be past their bedtime.) Wolverine wasn't there either and I had a pretty good guess as to why.

The ritual was a brief one. We held hands. The Professor spoke eloquently about the contributions made by Storm and by Moonstar, and how much he looked forward to being reunited with them. I marveled at his ability to just speak off the cuff. I didn't think he'd had anything prepared, and he'd seemed as surprised by Shaman's call to ritual as I had been. He managed to put together some very moving words about both Storm and Dani, and their contributions to the X-men. 

"And I, too, shall miss all of you," Storm said, after the Professor had spoken. "Being a part of the X-men has been the most fulfilling, most exciting aspect of my entire life. I shall miss all of you very much, and I shall eagerly look forward to my return." She then paused. Her face was hard to make out in the waning light, and I wasn't sure if she was pausing to gather her words or because she possibly was choked with emotion. I couldn't tell, but I did have a better view of a very sorrowful-looking Rogue.

"I would like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you personally," Storm continued. "But I fear that, in front of the entire group, I shall forget someone or not be able to eloquently convey to each of you what you mean to me. Instead, I would like to speak with each of you privately after the ceremony and bid farewell then."

She turned to Dani. Dani then spoke, "I'd like to say a few words." She never showed any fear of speaking in public, which I admired so much. "I want to thank all of you for taking me in and making me feel at home and accepted, all at once. There are a few who I have to thank especially." She paused. "Well, he's not here, but I have to publicly thank Wolverine for being a great mentor and for patiently teaching me karate. I have more confidence than I've ever had in my life." 

Moonstar paused, and then looked straight at me. My heart sped up at the attention, as other people turned their heads towards me. "Bobby, you are a true friend and I always have so much fun with you. I think I'll miss your laughter and your jokes the most. During the dark times that lie ahead, I'll just think of you and your spirit, and I know I'll be smiling once again."

I quietly thanked her and bowed my head. Then I bit my lip, futilely hoping I wouldn't get all teary. Jean-Paul held my hand a bit tighter.

"Shaman," Dani said, turning towards him, "I want to thank you, and your wife Silver Moon, for helping me keep the connection with my Native roots. We're from different nations, but our----" she broke off and added. "Oh, for those of you who don't know, we use the term 'nation' to mean what white people tend to refer to as 'tribe.'" She added her informative statement in without coming across as nasty or talking down to anyone. Dani then continued, "Anyway, Shaman, we come from different nations but our nations do have many things in common. I know I'll miss that connection with my heritage. But I'll always be able to think of you two---and Lily Pearl---to feel connected to the earth again, even though we are so far away from home."

"And Storm," Dani continued, "you're coming with me, but I have to publicly say a few grateful words to you. I cannot express enough how much your sacrifice---of coming with me, protecting me---means to me." She stopped and seemed to have to collect herself before continuing. "I can never come close to repaying your favor….I can't even fathom everything you're giving up. A 'thank you' doesn't seem to do it, but I wanted to….wanted to at least say it in public."

Storm smiled and softly said, "Dani, you are worth it." She emphasized every word.

I looked around the circle and spotted Jubilee. He head was bowed; she looked towards the ground. Moonstar didn't say any words to or about Jubilee, and I felt another stab of pain thinking of what Dani had to be going through inside. I wish she had decided to speak about it with me. But it was her choice to keep it to herself, and I had to honor that, if that was what she wished. She surely wasn't the only X man who preferred things that way. 

Shaman then asked if anyone had anything else to share with the entire group. Rogue spoke up. "Storm, girl, all I wanna say is that we're gonna continue the Healing Ceremonies you started." Rogue looked like she wanted to say so much else, but I could tell that her voice was on the edge. I think she worried about getting overemotional, so she clamed up. Gambit put his arm around her. Rogue spoke no more to the group, though I guessed that she and Storm would have a lot to talk about in private together.

The ritual ended with Moonstar whipping out her ever-present flute and playing a song. Every song I've heard her play lately has been piercingly sorrowful and I braced myself for another gut-wrencher. This one, though, had a more uplifting tone to it. It just felt so positive as she played it, and it literally ended with a high note. I felt as if Dani were musically promising to return soon, and I have to say it was oddly comforting.

Most of, or at least many of, the X-men didn't want to evening to end. The majority of us filtered back to the rec room instead of our own rooms. Jeanne-Marie was tired and bid goodnight to many, but Jean-Paul and I stayed a while later and hung out with many of the X-men.

Storm slowly moved through what remained of the group in the rec room. It looked to me as if she was sitting with each one, and saying a personalized farewell. After some time, she approached me. 

"I was telling the others," she began, "that even though we're having that meeting before Dani and I leave tomorrow, I don't want to be saying farewells then. I would rather keep tomorrow's meeting businesslike, and say my farewells now."

I nodded, the lump back in my throat again. I tried to be brave, and I looked straight at her. "I'm gonna miss you, Storm," I managed. 

"And I shall miss you too," Storm said. Somehow her words were reassuring. She sounded strong and confident…and bold, even. She reached for one of my hands and held it. "And Bobby, I wanted to take a moment and say how much I admire you."

I dropped her hand. "You? Admire **me**?" I regained enough composure to make an attempt at a joke. "I think you got it backwards, right?"

"I mean it very sincerely," she said. "You have come so far since I've known you, you have grown and changed. You have become a very key member of our team."

I knew I had to be glowing at her praise. It's not that Storm was ever stingy with her compliments---she wasn't---but hearing her say these words was music to my ears. "Thank you," I said quietly. "That really means a lot to me." I collected myself enough to add, "I suppose I don't need to say how much I admire you, and everything you've done for the X-men. You're a truly wonderful leader."

We sat and talked for a little while longer. We somehow ended up reminiscing about our days on the Paradise planet. 

"I remember one thing you said during one of those evenings we sat around the campfire," Storm was saying to me. Just from the way her voice was, I could close my eyes and practically see the campfire in front of us, and I could almost hear the crackling of the fire. "You said you wonder how you ever survived your childhood, and how you were able to carry on despite all the pain you lived with. I believe that it was meant to be," she said firmly. "You were meant to be with the X-men and grow and learn from us….and to teach all of us too." 

By this point I was blushing furiously at all the praise, but Storm continued on. "And you saved all of our lives when the FOH held us captive on board Freedom. You were the one who broke the others out of the cell. Without you, Bobby, none of us would be here today."

I again swallowed the lump in my throat and managed to mumble a "thank you." I wordlessly pulled Storm into a hug, and we remained hugging each other for a long time.

***********

After the ritual, a very tired Cyclops returned to the room he shared with his family. He held the sleeping Charlotte in his arms. When they reached the room, they found Jean on the bed, reading by the nightlight. Christopher was sound asleep in his crib. 

"We should go on that next mission to earth," Jean said, once Scott had settled in by her side on the bed and put Charlotte down for the night. "Charles needs to stay here."

Scott nodded. "I know. He shouldn't be going on any more missions. He still needs rest."

"And the next mission needs a telepath." Jean sighed. "My family's going to fight us tooth and nail on the idea of us going on that mission though."

Scott turned to face Jean. "You didn't…read their minds, did you?" He said the words gently, without reproach. However, he knew that Jean had not been in the best of moods since Scott's "deal" with the Queen, and they had talked about the few unauthorized forays into other people's minds Jean had taken.

"No. I'm finished with that. I truly am----and I'm feeling much better." Jean's words were, for the most part, true. "You know my Dad. You don't need to be a telepath to know that he's going to go ballistic at the idea of me going on the mission with the kids. Especially after what happened on the last mission." 

Scott nodded. "Do you think…do you think we should consider leaving Char and Chris with your parents?" He knew exactly what her thoughts on that matter were. "I know, I know. I'd rather cut off one of my arms, I think."

"I just cannot imagine being separated from them. I can't," Jean repeated. 

"Even if it might be better for them in the long term?" Scott asked softly. "We don't know what's going to happen on this next mission. At some point on the mission, we will have to go back to that mysterious planet to retrieve our shuttle. Who knows what we might face there?" Scott inched closer to Jean and enfolded her within his arms. This was the most familiar bedtime position for both of them.

"I know. I ask myself every day whether putting the kids in jeopardy…in **possible** jeopardy is the right thing to do or not. Maybe they would be better off here, with their grandparents." She paused. "Or maybe….maybe you could stay here with them. That way, they're with one of their parents at least. Though I can't imagine being separated from you for so long."

"No….No, Jean we cannot consider that option. It's not just that I don't want to be separated from you. The X-men need a leader now. Especially with Storm gone."

"Well, that's partly why we have our field commanders. Wolverine, Rogue and Beast. I think they're capable of leading the mission." Jean then added, "I can tell from the look on your face that you don't agree."

"It's not that they're not capable," Scott began cautiously. "I think Hank's a wonderful leader. But with Panda having a baby, maybe he'll want to stay here. At the very least, he's going to be distracted with parenthood. And I have to say that I'm not in favor of a mission led by Wolverine and Rogue."

Jean shot him a look. "Really?" she asked.

"Jean, really, it's not that I don't trust them or think they're good leaders. It's just that they're both still kind of….you know."

Jean nodded. She knew what he meant. Wolverine and Rogue were the most bellicose members of the team --- and there was always the memory of what the two of them, and Gambit, did to the FOH soldiers. 

"The main reason, though, is that I can't bear to be separated from you," Scott said. "I'll admit it. That is the main reason I want to go on that next mission."

"Yes," Jean said. "I agree. I don't want to be separated." She knew, as well, that Scott had **not** been worried about the possibility of Jean being on a ship with a Storm-deprived Wolverine while Scott stayed at home. She knew that the two men's rivalry and jealousy was a thing of the past. The same scenario several years ago might've told a different story, however.

"And that's also why," Jean continued, "we need to take the kids on this next mission. I cannot imagine just leaving them here with our parents. We are not going to be separated from each other or from the children." Jean said the words firmly, sensing that both she and Scott were close to solidifying their decision.

"I spoke with Jubilee. She's taking Aurora on the mission," Scott said, as if to add another bolster to their plan. He also added, "It'll be nice to be away from the Queen too."

Jean nodded. "My parents are still going to give us hell for this…."

"….but it's our choice to make," Scott said, though he did not look forward to this discussion with his in-laws. "We can stand up to them. We can do it."

Later, the light was turned off and Scott and Jean were quietly making love. When they were finished, they remained entwined in each other's arms. "I'm so glad we're staying together on this mission," Jean whispered. "I can't imagine being separated."

"I know," Scott whispered back, kissing Jean's sweaty forehead. "I love you, Jean."

"I love you too." 

Jean knew that their fate was luckier than the one that awaited Storm and Wolverine, and her heart broke at the thought of the two lovers being separated. 

************

Dani Moonstar stayed until the last guest had left the party. She, plus the two stray An'zhinians who'd remained till the end, put away the snacks that remained and tidied up the rec room. Russ had packed up his CDs. Dani took the last of the streamers and balloons, and placed them in the recycling bins *where the replicator would later turn them into something else.) Moonstar reached to shut off the lights, leaving the rec room in darkness.

She then walked down the corridor to her room, trying to choke back tears. Stoic and proud to this point, the fact that she was truly going to leave finally began to sink in and the hot tears began to form. She walked faster when she heard the swoosh of the door to someone's quarters opening. Moonstar had no desire for anyone to see her walking down the halls sobbing.

"Moonstar, wait."

She had to obey Wolverine's gruff voice. She wiped away the tears, and turned to face him.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," he said, walking towards her, as the distance between them narrowed. "You're a damn good karate student. When you get back, we'll start workin' together again. I'm lookin' forward to it." 

Wolverine now stood close enough to her that her weepy state was obvious. The two shared a look and, in that instant, she knew that he understood and she didn't need to try to hide her crying. Wolverine reached for Moonstar and held her in his arms. She quietly sobbed against his warm body for a bit, and they remained in a hug for several minutes. Dani pulled away when her tears had run their course.

"Thanks, Wolverine," she said. "I look forward to it too. You're the best teacher." She had to cease speaking now, as a new round of tears threatened.

Wolverine planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, and Dani resumed her walk towards her room.

That evening, she prayed. _'Dear Sister Moon and Brother Sky. I don't know what awaits me in this new chapter of my life. Please continue to watch over me and keep me safe. Please help me to be strong.'_

************

`I wait all my life to find a woman I love…one who loves me back. I find her, and now we gotta be separated.'

Wolverine had entertained absolutely no notions of attending the "farewell" party. He had no desire to engage in small talk with anyone, nor did he care to have everyone taking sideways glances at him during the evening. He'd spent most of the time walking in the forest and reached his quarters when the party had been winding down.

`Why did Psylocke even agree to this?' he wondered. Storm was strong and powerful; Psylocke couldn't have wanted to her to join the crew of the Pirates and possibly trump her power. He wondered if it were some sort of sick revenge on Wolverine for the fact that he chose Storm over Psylocke.

Whatever the case, the woman he loved dearly was going to be leaving and it would be at the very least one full year before he saw her again.

***********

Storm walked down the corridor towards Wolverine's room. She understood his reasons for not attending the party. It wasn't as if Logan were the most sociable person to begin with. The morning of the party, she'd asked if he planned on attending and had known the answer before the flat "no" had slipped from his mouth.

But now the party was over. Storm had watched most of the other X-men leave and had left Dani Moonstar with a handful of others in the rec room to finish up their night. 

A million phrases stumbled through Storm's mind as she headed for Wolverine's quarters. 'So this is it.' 'So this is it for now.' 'I will miss you greatly.' 'I shall miss you terribly, but we will be together again in twelve months.' 'I love you so much, and this is so hard for both of us.' 'We must try to make the best of a difficult situation and remember that we shall be together again soon.'

A bunch of miserable cliches! All of them contained nothing but things that did not need to be said. Logan was never one to fancy restating the obvious. Storm continued to plod towards his room at a complete loss for words. 

She reached his door still in a quandary, her mouth dry. The door slid aside and, at the sight of a miserably sad Wolverine, standing there shirtless and wearing faded jeans, Storm fell into his embrace. They said nothing and they remained standing in the doorway, holding each other, for a long time. 

Eventually they made their way to the bed, but not for lovemaking. They simply collapsed on the bed together, entwined. Both wanted to cry but neither was actually forming the tears. They just remained cuddled together, wrapped in as much full-body contact as they could manage.

At one point, Logan's ears perked up and he sniffed the air. 'What is it?" Storm softly asked.

"Dani's comin' down the hall. I wanna say goodbye to her. I ain't gonna do it at the meeting tomorrow."

Storm nodded, and Wolverine slipped from the bed. She immediately felt the loss of his embrace, the coldness from his absence, and she despaired at the thought of surviving an entire year like this. Although Logan returned in just a minute, Storm knew that she'd experienced a mere morsel of the pain that was to await her.

**************

TO BE CONTINUED

****

Question of the week---What do you expect will happen to Storm and Moonstar now? What do you want to happen?

Your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net Also, if you want to be notified when I upload a new chapter, just send me an email.


	12. Chapter 12

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing.

CHAPTER TWELVE

**************

Jean-Paul and I went to bed the night of the farewell party. We now shared a bed most nights; it was a rare one that he wanted to sleep in his own bed. I think the combination of everything he's lived through---his HIV diagnosis and recovery----were just making him more open to intimacy. So we usually bedded down together in my room. (And needless to say, I was really happy with the way things were going.)

He was unusually clingy that night. Most nights, he liked some space on the bed and didn't want the full body contact. But that night, he wrapped his arms around me and cleaved to me. 

"Is everything okay?" I whispered. "Do you wanna talk?" 

"No," he whispered back. He kissed the side of my face and bid me pleasant dreams. It took me a while to fall asleep, though, because I knew the thought of returning to earth had terrified him (and partly because one side of my body had gone numb from the way he was sleeping on it.)

The next morning, it was awkward. We had an X-men meeting, and Storm was present. She and Moonstar were scheduled to leave with the Pirates later that morning, but Storm wanted to attend our meeting to hear our plans. It certainly made sense, but it was just a tad….weird with her there, since we'd all basically said goodbye to her the previous evening. I found myself trying to avoid looking in Storm's direction, as terrible as that sounds. Moonstar took a pass on attending the meeting. 

The group talked over the specifics of the dilithium beam-down from the Pirates. The exchange—Dani and Storm for dilithium---would be conducted via transporter. Jean and the Professor both said that they scanned the Pirates' minds again that morning and that they still had no intention of deceiving us; they planed to follow through with the agreement we made. I was glad that they did that scan because I sure wouldn't have trusted Marrow and Psylocke. 

"Once we receive the dilithium, we can return to earth," Cyclops said. "We can continue our original plan, of using telepathy to change the minds of FOH leadership and turn the tide on public opinion regarding mutants."

"That seems to be the best plan," Storm said. "Unless anyone else has any better ideas."

No one did. I think we all realized that these raids on the camps where we beamed up a few hundred mutants at a time were next-to useless, in addition to being dangerous. The bottom line remained: we had to change the attitudes of people towards mutants. No one liked the idea of messing around in people's heads but thousands of mutants were being tortured and even killed, and we had to prevent it. 

"Cyclops and I, and the kids, will be on the next mission," Jean stated. "My family gives me a hard time whenever I talk about going on another mission, but Scott and I have discussed it and we truly think it's the right thing to do. We need a telepath on this mission."

The Professor smiled and said, "I have offered many times to serve that role instead."

Cyclops smiled back. "And we've always said 'no way.' You're staying here, Professor. You're needed here to run An'zhina."

Cyclops's words, I thought, were kind. As much as I love and respect the Professor, An'zhina truly can be run just fine under the care of Moira and Banshee. (And Angel, I guess. He had, once again, chosen to remain on An'zhina so as to be with Sara Grey and her children.) But the real reason had to be that Xavier just wasn't getting any younger and, although he looked better than he had in quite a while, I think he still needed the rest and relaxation. And why shouldn't he take them? He's certainly earned them; he's certainly been through enough strife in his life. I knew I'd miss the Professor but also would be glad that he was comfortable on An'zhina.

"Rory and I are going too," Jubilee said, looking in Jean's direction. "So Charlotte will still have her playmate with her. When are we leaving?" I'm sure that part of Jubilee's reason for coming with had to do with her relationship with Cannonball. But even apart from that, I also knew she liked being part of the team and would rather be in the thick of things instead of vacationing on An'zhina.

"That is the next question for us to discuss," Cyclops said. He then turned and looked at Hank and Panda. 

"Panda and I have had some discussions with the leaders," Hank began, addressing all of us. "We would like to remain here until our baby is born."

"We'd feel a lot safer that way," Panda explained. "I—I know it might sound irrational. But that's the way I'd prefer it, for Rob to be born here instead of on the starship."

"So the question becomes, is the rest of the team willing to delay approximately six or seven weeks before we return to earth?" Hank asked. "If not, then please feel free to proceed to earth without us. We do not wish to hamper this very important quest."

"The risk is, you would be bereft of a doctor," Storm said. "Shaman has a healing power that he can share with others, and Wraith has been trained as a medical assistant…." She let her voice trail off. 

"But neither of us is a good substitute for a real doctor," Wraith finished for her. 

"That is quite true," Shaman added. "I do not have the ability to perform surgery, for example. Wraith and I can handle minor accidents and illnesses only."

I listened to Storm's words and realized that the Pirates were also "bereft of a doctor" (unless one of those two other women in their crew was a doctor---what were the odds of that?) I really hoped that neither Dani nor Storm would get sick.

The team discussed the issue at hand for a while. I hated the idea of setting out without Hank and I really hoped people could be persuaded to wait a few more weeks. In the grand scheme of thing, what did seven weeks matter? 

There was some real debate on this, with some X-men really eager to head out as soon as possible. But Jean, Scott, and Rory all made the case that they would feel much more comfortable if their children had access to a doctor on board Freedom. Several people made the argument that it was a moot point since so few of us ever really **got** sick. But you never knew. When Jean-Paul had been assaulted by FOH, thank goodness we had Hank. Hank had performed surgery on him to clean out the infection he'd suffered, and Hank had known which antibiotics to give him. Like Shaman said, neither he nor Wraith would've been able to do that.

Memories of Jean-Paul's assault made me shudder. I looked at him. He still didn't seem quite himself this morning, and I gathered that what happened with FOH on that dreadful mission went a long way towards explaining his terror yesterday. I'd never lived through being raped and tortured like he was. I would only imagine what he was going through.

Caught up in these thoughts, my attention returned back to the meeting when Cyclops was saying, "It's settled, then. We'll wait here on An'zhina, and leave for earth when Rob is about a week old. That way, Hank and Panda can be a part of the next mission."

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that my best friend and I would not be separated. 

There were two other matters that we had to discuss during the meeting. The first had to do with the planet at which we….uh, **took** the dilithium. The Professor said, with Cyclops fervently nodding along, that he believed we should return to the planet and attempt to retrieve the shuttle. We didn't know what we'd find there, but by leaving that shuttle behind, we might've committed quite a bit of damage to their natural evolution. 

"You must investigate that," Storm said. No one disagreed.

However, our first order of business on the mission was going to have to be to get more dilithium. The amount the Pirates promised came to just more than enough to get to earth and back. That wasn't going to be enough. We had to get more, to account for any contingencies. 

"Locating new dilithium sources is of utmost importance," Cyclops said. "We are going to need to do that before we visit the planet we took the dilithium from and before we go to earth. We cannot risk becoming stranded once again."

No one disagreed with that either. The amount we were going to be getting just wasn't enough to make us feel secure. 

"We don't really got any idea 'bout any sources of dilithium, do we?" Rogue asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Cyclops answered. "Other than the inhabited planet where we left the shuttle. But we can't take from there again."

"The Pirates must know some sources," Storm said. "Either they know of a source unknown to us, or they were the ones who took it from that first planet from which we used to obtain our dilithium." The 'planet' Storm referred to was an uninhabited chunk that used to contain a huge boatload of dilithium. The last time we went there, we found that all the dilithium had been removed. A lot of us suspected that FOH were the ones who took the dilithium but it truly was anyone's guess.

"I will see what I can find out from them," Storm continued. "Jean and Professor, if you would check in with me telepathically from time to time, I will let you know what I've found out." 

"You'll have to find out fast," Jean said. "Remember, that Charles and I can hook up mentally with those who are about seven days away from here. Once you get farther than that, you're out of range."

Storm nodded, "I know. I'll also ask Dani to see what she can find out."

That was basically the end of our meeting. Storm smiled and said that she appreciated all the farewells and well-wishes she received yesterday at the party and at the ceremony, and that she wanted to exchange no more. We were less than an hour away from the scheduled beam-up time, and Storm said she had a few last minute things to pack, so she got up and walked straight back to her room. 

I guess it was easier that way. She didn't want to go through another round of goodbyes, and I sure didn't blame her. I sneaked a glance at Wolverine's but it was unreadable. He left the room the minute the meeting ended.

Later that day, I checked in with Rogue and she told me that the exchange had been successful. Storm and Dani had been beamed away, and we had the dilithium in exchange that we'd been promised. I nodded at her words, seeing the deeply sorrowful look in her eyes reflecting exactly how I felt. Storm and Dani were gone.

**************

Cyclops checked his communicator. During the meeting, he'd heard it give off a blip, indicating that a non-urgent text message had been received. He'd fleetingly wondered who might be calling him….all the X-men were in the meeting and he didn't really communicate much with anyone other than those who had been sitting around the large circular table. He guessed it might've been his in-laws, though why would they call him and not Jean. As soon as the meeting had adjourned, he eagerly read the message.

__

I request a brief meeting with you, as soon as possible. Please contact my advisor Baran to schedule some time today.

Queen Marina

Cyclops sighed, disgustedly. He wanted nothing more to do with that woman. He looked forward to leaving on the next mission so that he could get away from this place, out of Marina's clutches. Deep down, he wouldn't have minded if Hank and Panda's baby arrived a bit early---the earlier he could leave An'zhina, the better. Scott hadn't seen Marina since their evening together, but he truly had no desire to ever see the Queen again.

'I guess I have no choice,' he said to himself. He couldn't disregard her request; ignoring the generous regent who gave them the moon was not an option. Therefore, he found himself facing her image on the viewscreen less than an hour after the X-men's meeting had concluded. Jean was with her parents, continuing her effort to persuade them that her leaving on this mission—with their grandchildren---did not spell disaster.

"It is good to see you again, Scott," Marina said. She wore a smile which bordered on a smirk, and a devilish twinkle glowed in her eyes.

Scott perused her facial expression and knew this could not be good. 

He took a deep breath. "What can I do for you today?" he asked, mustering every bit of willpower to keep his voice level and civil. He even managed a tone that might sound a touch pleasant to a casual onlooker, though Marina certainly had to know that the truth was otherwise. 

"I wish to offer you an exchange," Marina said.

Scott's pulse began to gallop. He'd had enough of powerful females offering exchanges lately. "What sort of exchange?"

"I've spoken with our scientists. They believe that they can cure the damage that was done to your brain which prevents you from being able to control your laser blasts. How would you like the ability to be rid of your visor, once and for all?"

"Let me guess what you want in return," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Another evening together," she finished for him, with a slight smile.

"No. No way, Marina." Her gall remained incredible. 'Are there no attractive men on Endaria??' he wondered, angrily. `And why is it, no matter what I say to her, she doesn't understand the concept of monogamy?!'

"Are you quite sure you want to refuse this offer, Scott?" Marina asked. Her facial expression remained smug. "Wouldn't you like to look at Charlotte and Christopher—and Jean---without having that barrier between you? Don't you want Jean to gaze into your naked eyes? Don't you want to hold your son without the fear that he's going to reach for your visor and pull it off?" 

Scott fought for control of his anger. His voice came out low and clear. "I'm not some….expensive prostitute. I did what I did before to save Northstar's life. But don't expect me to ever do this again." 

"Well, if you change your mind, Scott, feel free to call me."

She terminated their conversation. "Don't bet on it," he muttered, to the blank viewscreen.

**************

"I can't believe the gall of that woman," Jean said later, echoing Scott's same thoughts on the "request" that the Queen made. 

"She makes me so angry," Scott said, shaking his head. "I know, I know….I can't let it get to me. I just have to shrug her off. But it's hard."

"There are reasons other than morals to turn down her offer as well," Jean said. "You don't want Endarian scientists messing around in your brain."

"I know. The very thought terrifies me. They could plant some mind-control device in there---or do God-knows-what else." Scott sighed. "Her gall really is amazing."

Jean and Scott's conversation was momentarily interrupted. They were taking a walk along one of the many pathways when a gaggle of five or six joggers came up from behind and passed them by. 

"I'm just worried that she's going to keep coming at me with these requests," Scott said. He and Jean reached a bench and decided to sit for a moment. A few more fellow An'zhinians were walking and biking down the pathway.

//You can't worry about what might happen in the future, Scott,// Jean gently communicated via their mindlink as she reached for her water bottle and took a sip. She decided to switch to the non-verbal form of communication since it didn't seem that she and Scott were going to get any privacy. //She probably will throw a few more requests your way. You can always say no.//

//That's what I do fear. What if some day I **can't** say no? What if some day they aren't requests and are instead demands?//

Jean put an arm around her husband's strong waist. //I guess we'll face that when we come to it. We'll think of a way to handle it.// She paused. //If worse comes to worse, we leave Endaria.//

Scott then turned to look at Jean. //What is it?// he asked her. He sensed that she had, reflexively, put up a mental 'wall' between the two of them. 

//A thought popped into my head,// Jean admitted. //One I didn't want to share with you.//

//Oh.// His mind was silent for a second. //I respect that, of course.// They had long ago agreed that if either one of them did not feel like sharing the entire contents of their mind, they would respect the other person's inner space and mental privacy.

//No, this is something I should bring up with you because this isn't the first time it's been on my mind.//

Scott was intrigued now. Although they respected each other's privacy, these days---after having been together for most of their adult lives---there wasn't much that they didn't divulge. //Tell me, Jean. If you want to.//

//I want to know what you did. You've told me all about your evening with Marina but you never told me what….you two did in bed.// She then, for reasons she couldn't explain, reverted back to speaking, rather than telepathy. "I mean, obviously you made quite an impression on her," Jean said, her voice a notch above a whisper, "if she's asking for a return engagement."

Scott listened to her words. He'd always assumed that Jean never asked him for details of his sexual encounter with Marina due to an understanding that discussing this made him somewhat uncomfortable. 

//But why should it make you uncomfortable?// Jean asked. //If you cannot share with me, who can you share it with?//

//I know,// Scott answered. //I know. I guess it's just something that I'd rather forget. And….and I think it all gets back to me not wanting to feel like….like an expensive prostitute.//

"Well, I know that you're not, and you know that you're not," Jean responded, whispering even though no one else was near them. "But I'll admit that my main reason for wanting to know is curiosity, plain and simple. If you don't want to talk about it, I'll respect that. I can live with my curiosity not being satisfied."

Scott was silent for a few moments. //Alright// he said. //I can share this with you. I'll tell you about it.// He was silent for several seconds. //Or maybe it's better if I just remember back to it, and you can watch.//

And that is what happened. Scott's mind went over the events of that evening with Marina, in effect playing a flashback tape as the couple's mindlink remained joined. Jean witnessed Scott's memories as if watching a movie filmed from Scott's perspective. She saw him sitting uncomfortably on the bed as he waited for Marina. She saw the Queen emerge from a secluded room, wearing an alluring red negligee ….a negligee, Jean realized with a stab, not unlike one of Jean's own, complete with a plunging neckline and lace trim. Jean saw Marina approach Scott and kiss him passionately. She also understood and felt, through the mindlink, that Scott was going through the motions on autopilot, returning the kiss as his own emotions were squelched shut off. He had to choke back his disgust. No one, save Jean, could understand how truly excruciating this had been for him.

Jean felt Scott's body respond physically, due more to the drug that had been placed in his drink than anything else. Jean had to swallow her own disgust as she witnessed Marina fondling Scott's ears. The Queen continued to smother his mouth, and then nibble on his neck. Jean viewed Marina's hands caress her husband, gently removing his clothing. Marina lured Scott to the bed and mounted him, smothering his body with kisses and caresses. 

Unable to watch any more, Jean closed off the mindlink at the point when Marina' reached for Scott's hardness and inserted it within her mouth. Jean had to break off the memories then.

"I didn't reciprocate," Scott added quietly.

Jean was quiet for a few moments. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered, her eyes not meeting his. "I'm sorry I watched that, and sorry you had to go through with that."

Scott gently touched her arm and made eye contact with her. "I—it's okay. I'm dealing with it. It wasn't the worst thing in life a person could go through. It's just that it makes me feel….so dirty," he said, having found the word he was searching for. "I keep telling myself that it was the right thing to do, that it saved Northstar's life….But I'll always feel dirty from it too."

Jean nodded, holding one of his hands in hers. Several more people walked, jogged, or rode their bikes past the bench on which the couple sat, many of them calling out greetings. Scott and Jean responded pleasantly, as always.

"You did the right thing though. You had no other choice," Jean murmured once they were alone again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What if she keeps coming back to me," Scott wondered in reply, once he and Jean were alone again. "What if someone else on An'zhina gets sick, and it's something Hank and Moira can't cure. Am I going to have to go through this again?"

Jean shared his worries and spoke a few words of reassurance. But she also wouldn't lie to her husband; she told Scott that she shared some of the same fears too. 

"As much as I'm going to miss the Professor and the rest of our family," Scott began, "I can't wait to leave An'zhina. I can't wait to get on this mission!"

*********

"I don't think I can go on this mission."

The weeks on An'zhina had been passing very quickly, ever since we bid farewell to Storm and Dani and we waited for Panda and Hank's baby to be born. I suppose it was because we knew our departure from this paradise land grew nearer and nearer that the days seemed to whoosh by. Every time I went to a meeting of the bad art club or tended the garden with the others, I told myself to cherish this time, as it would soon be ending.

I guess I shouldn't have been all that surprised when Jean-Paul made his declaration to me that morning. He looked more and more wistful every time we spoke of leaving An'zhina and all the things we treasured here. Every time talk of returning to earth had come up, he'd gotten this look. He just couldn't mask the fear he felt about possible confrontations with FOH.

"Really?" I asked softly, in a tone which I hoped would encourage him to open up more. He and I were eating breakfast outside, on one of the patios. It was a late breakfast; we'd slept in that morning and only a few others were milling about the porch.

"I've been thinking about this a lot, Bobby," he said. He rested his head on one hand and alternated between glancing at me and at the table. 

"I know you have," I said quietly. "I could tell ever since it came up at Storm and Dani's going-away party. I didn't wanna rush you into talking about it more if you weren't ready." I stopped and reached to hold one of his hands. "I guess that's only partially true," I corrected myself. "Maybe the truth is that I knew how you felt and I just didn't want to face it."

"Do you understand my reasons for not wanting to go on this mission?" he asked.

"I think so. But I'd like to hear you say them anyway."

"It's too much. Too much has happened, Bobby," he said, meeting my eyes. "I've been tortured by FOH twice. The second time I thought it would be easier but it actually was worse. I was more scared that I could ever imagine that I could be." Jean-Paul said the words steadily and without much emotion in his voice, but I knew what he was feeling inside. I knew he felt every word that he said. 

"So the main reason is fear of being captured and tortured again?" I asked. I made sure to keep my voice gentle and devoid of judgement. I had never been tortured. I couldn't really understand what he'd been through. Although I knew I wasn't going to like what he was going to say, I tried to receive it without judgement.

"Yes. But there's more too." At my encouraging look, Jean-Paul continued. "Bobby, it's been too much. I've been through just too much. I need some time to slow down and reflect. Listen to everything I have been through. In the last….three or four years, I've seen most of my teammates in Alpha Flight tortured and killed, I myself was tortured by FOH, I saw my sister tortured by those bastards too. I struggled to help my sister with her depression. I later found out that Philippe---my lover for three years—had been killed by FOH. Then I fell in love with you, I watched as my nephew was taken by FOH, I was tortured by FOH **again**. Then I was diagnosed with HIV, only to be cured of it weeks later in some very bizarre circumstances. Bobby, my life has been a roller coaster---an insane roller coaster---for the last few years." He paused and added, "I need to get off of it."

I knew all of the facts that he told me of. But somehow hearing them all together like that was truly staggering. I got up from my chair and hugged him. The losses I'd borne in my lifetime didn't compare. He'd suffered more than just about any of the others.

"Rober, my amour, you know that you have been one thing that has helped me more than almost anything else," he said, as I continued to embrace him. "And you know that when I listed falling in love with you, in that litany of events in my life for the last few years, I mean that it was one of the most wonderful things that ever happened to me."

"I understand," I said. "And besides, it's still more chaos. I mean, when you begin a new relationship, it's still a big, life-changing thing. Even though it's a good thing."

"Exactly. As wonderful as our relationship is---and Rober, I mean it; I could not go on without you some days," he said passionately, hugging me tighter. "But as wonderful as it is, it's another element in my life that's changed." He paused and said, somberly, "You know, I've been thinking about Philippe a lot lately. When I was with him, I thought we would be together forever. And when someone you love dies….." he let his voice trail off.

"I know. You still love them," I finished for him. "You don't stop loving them just because they're dead."

"Sometimes I feel that I've never really dealt with it," he confessed. "I know that when we first started our relationship, I made us wait a long time before we made love."

"Longer than any other gay couple in history," I laughed. "Or any straight one, for that matter."

He smiled at my joke. We weren't hugging any more; I had resumed sitting next to him. "It's true. And I think part of why I made us wait so long was because I felt that would make it okay in Philippe's eyes. I couldn't stand to feel that I was betraying him, betraying his memory. Then once we got together, maybe I thought it was okay, we had waited long enough, and I would be over Philippe." He paused. "But it's not that simple. I would be lying if I said that I didn't miss him at times. I'd be lying if I said I didn't still love him."

We sat in silence for a bit. I replayed the words he'd said. "Jean-Paul, do you think that's the real thing going on here? I mean, is it that you don't want to go on the next mission or that you haven't dealt with everything that's happened to you---losing Philippe…being tortured….watching most of your teammates be killed…"

He was quiet for a bit and he seemed to be really listening to what I'd said. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know." He and I then both started to speak at the same time. I deferred to him. "Maybe I should go talk to the Professor."

I smiled. "That's exactly what I was going to suggest."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we have a…a mindlink," he laughed.

"I think it's cool we're on the same wavelength," I said, smiling. I felt more in synch with him than I ever had, and from the look on his face, I knew he felt the same. It was cool. Somehow that knowledge gave me the confidence to know that we'd get through this. "Do you think you'll do it? You know the Professor's a great listener and he always gives good advice. Objective."

"I've been thinking about doing this for days. I guess I will."

"We still have a few weeks before Panda and Hank's baby is due." The words slipped out.

"You're hoping I change my mind," he said. The sentence was somewhere between a statement and a question.

"I guess so," I admitted. "I'll support whatever decision you reach though."

"If I do decide to remain here, you'll stay here with me, won't you?"

Upon seeing me hesitate, Jean-Paul pressed, "Angel is staying here with Sara **again**. If he can take a break, surely you can too."

"I know. But I also feel a strong sense of duty to do what is right. If you stay home, Jeanne-Marie will want to as well. I don't know if the X-men can afford to lose all three of us---on top of Storm and Dani too."

"It's just for one mission."

"But this might be the one that ends it," I said. I spoke with sincere passion in my voice. "This could be the one that ends it. If we avoid accidents in engineering and if FOH hasn't created any new viruses, the telepathy that Jean is going to do could really make a difference. Jean-Paul, we might be able to **win** this thing, to make a real difference. I think I want to be there for that."

"You are an optimist, Bobby. I dearly hope that we can end this once and for all too, but will it? Or will earth just fall into more chaos? FOH runs everything. If they're brought down, who is going to run the governments, the economies of the world?"

"Maybe then we can really make a difference. It might be chaos, as you say, but earth is already in chaos. Maybe we can help to make things better, and if we can, I want to be there."

Jean-Paul was silent for a few moments. I could tell that he was considering what I said and very possibly considering changing his mind on staying home. 

Finally, he said, "I will talk to the Professor."

************

"YEEEEES!"

Jubilee's cry rang out so loudly that the fact no one in the hallway heard her was a testament to Endarian architecture. Sam was grateful for the thick walls as well.

Mostly, though, he needed to rest. He was so thrilled that Jubilee had finally reached an orgasm during lovemaking that he nearly wanted to pump his fist and yell 'Yes!' too---but his arm was a little sore. He'd found that Jubilee just needed more prolonged stimulation than either of his previous girlfriends, and that penetration didn't do much for her. No matter. A combination of Cannonball's tongue and fingers had done the trick, though various muscles in his wrist, hand, and neck were now sore. He didn't really mind, though; he was thrilled that she had climaxed under his ministrations.

Sam rested his head on Jubilee's stomach. 

"That was great," Jubilee whispered. She then winced, worried she sounded like something out of a romance novel. "Sam, you're awesome," she added, sounding more like herself. 

"My pleasure, ma'am," he smiled.

She stroked his hair. "So…don't you wanna….?"

"Yeah. I just need a rest."

"You want me to get on top?"

"Sure!" That would be comfortable, Sam thought to himself. He actually liked being on the bottom quite a bit. Not much to do but look up, play with Jubilee's breasts, kiss her, and have an orgasm. Not a bad combination.

"Oh, Sam….uh---thanks. I mean, I'm sorry it took so long." Jubilee was relieved. Sam had been attempting to mask his disappointment at her lack of orgasms, and it had been putting pressure on her. Finally, it had happened! She was tired but very relieved.

"Aww, shucks, sweetie. It was fun."

Several hours later, Jubilee had retrieved little Aurora from Jean and Scott's babysitting. Sam had gone off to the Danger Room for a training session. It was soon time to put Rory down for her late afternoon nap.

Jubilee then walked over to one of Rory's diaper bags. She hadn't used this knapsack since the farewell party, and Jubilee knew full-well the reason for that. Her flute remained in its case, untouched for weeks due to the same reason. 

Jubilee reached inside the knapsack and pulled out the cassette tape. She sighed, a heaviness in the pit of her stomach. Dani Moonstar was gone now, and Jubilee honestly couldn't say she regretted that fact. But part of the heaviness in her heart was regret. Thinking back to Dani and to their friendship caused a plethora of unpleasant feelings to surface. Regret was only one of them. Betrayal, guilt, and anger were also present. In the past several days, Jubilee had been experiencing another emotion when she thought of Moonstar.

Sadness. Sorrowfully, Jubilee thought back to their friendship and realized that she hadn't wanted it to end. Dani's company was sorely missed. If only Dani had never gotten the idiotic idea to kiss her!

Taking a deep breath, Jubilee opened up the cassette tape. A small note popped out. Jubilee sat down on the bed and began to read.

__

Jubilee, I want to say how sorry I am about everything that happened.

I miss you and I hope that someday, when I return, we can again be friends.

Your flute playing was really great, and I hope you keep playing.

Please enjoy this tape I made. Some of your favorite songs are on here, and

I recorded some new ones for you too. 

Jubilee fingered the note, somehow missing Storm very much now. She could use the older woman's counsel. Well, she still had Jean or Rogue, but it wouldn't be quite the same. Of course, none of them knew what had transpired between her and Dani. Only Bobby knew, and Jubilee just didn't feel like discussing her emotional state with him. 

Jubilee desperately hoped that the tape contained no love songs. Dani could sing as well as she could play, and she was capable of taping first a flute instrumental and then overlaying it with a track of her vocals. Jubilee didn't want to hear any dirges of unrequited love. 

'Oh well,' Jubilee thought to herself. `I gotta just put what happened with her behind me. Maybe when I see Dani a year from now, we'll have forgotten all this and we can go back to the way things were.'

Jubilee found herself speculating on the future a lot. Less than two weeks until the due date for Panda's baby. Within days of Storm having departed with the Pirates, Jean had made telepathic contact with the Windrider. Storm had discovered the coordinates of an uninhabited planet containing an abundance of dilithium which the Pirates had used to fill their coffers. Thus, the X-men had their course planned out. All that remained was the wait for the son of Hank and Panda to arrive, so the X-men could set out once more. 

**************

"You must be so excited. Gonna be a dad in—what?---ten days?"

"Eleven, if Rob arrives precisely on his due date. Panda says she believes that he might be early yet, though she cannot articulate why exactly she believes this."

Hank and I were taking a walk in one of the forested areas, enjoying the scenery. I tried to log lots of hours every day in nature. I knew I'd really miss it soon. Our time was slipping by, the days and hours dwindling at breakneck speed. I would miss my garden so incredibly much.

"So you are excited though, right?" I pressed. He didn't seem to be exactly jumping for joy.

"Of course I am. I feel several emotions. Nervousness is another one as well, though I trust that Panda and I will be good parents."

"Of course you will!" I enthused, sounding like a cheerleader. "I can't imagine anyone being a better parent than you. Besides, you have Jean and Scott, and the Greys, and Jubilee to ask for advice if you ever need it. Though I'm sure you've read every parenting book the Endarians allowed us to download, haven't you? Those books had a lot of great advice, I'm sure." 

I then stopped my rambling and took a good look at the man who was my best friend. "Hank….what's wrong?"

He returned my gaze, the sorrow in his eyes starling me. "Panda and I engaged in a discussion yesterday evening," he began, in a very serious tone. "She said that she does not wish to accompany the rest of the team on the next mission. She believes it best if she, the baby, and I remain here."

I stammered out a reply. "But…the baby's not even born yet!" That was lame, so I started again. "Why??" 

"She said that she does not want to risk his health or his life. Panda knows that our missions carry an element of danger, and she says that it will be wrong to subject Rob to that."

"But….but Jean and Scott, and Jubilee, are brining their kids!"

"I know. I shared that fact with her, but Panda believes that is no logical reason to risk our own son. I must concur with her on several points. Our son **will** face some potential danger should we elect to bring him with us. Our missions have, indeed, had casualties."

"True but….but…true," I said, claming up. Panda was right; what else was there to say? My little namesake **would** be in some danger, and I couldn't articulate a reason for them to bring him with, other than the one I'd already mentioned—the fact that other X-men were bringing their own kids.

"The fact that Scott, Jean, and Jubilee have weighed the risks and decided to bring their children on the mission does not convince Panda that it is the right thing to do," Hank said, as if he had read my mind. "I cannot argue with her logic. Or with her emotion. Our son is not yet born but…but we both love him already," Hank said, his voice carrying a great degree of tenderness and pain, in a way that I hadn't heard him speak before. "We love him. Perhaps it is for the best if he were to remain on An'zhina."

"So you'd stay here too?" I asked, my heart breaking. What an awful mission this was shaping up to be! No Dani, no Jean-Paul (though I had hopes he'd change his mind), possibly no Jeanne-Marie, and now possibly no Hank! Now all I needed was for Jubilee, Rogue and Gambit to stay behind, and all my best friends would be separated from me. 

But then I saw Hank swallow and noticed a deeper hurt in his eyes. "I have been struggling with this question constantly since Panda and I concluded our discussion. I am considering that perhaps I should still go on this mission, irregardless of her decision to remain here." At my surprised look, he continued, "The X-men require a doctor on this mission. It is absolutely required. Shaman and Wraith do not have the skills that I possess. I know that we do not intend this mission to be a rescue mission, for example, but if it should become one, my skill set will be necessary. I am the only X-man who can examine and treat the torture survivors of the camps, for instance. 

"And, aside from that fact," he continued, "I feel compelled to remain with the team during this mission. This mission could be a truly monumental one, one in which we finally are able to make a difference for the lives of mutants at home. We have been waiting for this for years."

"Wow, Hank," I murmured. "This is so weird. That's exactly how I feel! And that's like exactly what I said to Jean-Paul."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I'm in the same dilemma as you are," I confessed, with a wry laugh. "Jean-Paul is considering sitting this one out. He wants to stay here. And I think I might still go on the mission, no matter what he decides."

"Is that so?" Hank asked, sounding surprised. 

"Yeah," I said. I went on to explain some of the reasons Jean-Paul wanted to stay on An'zhina. "He's been meeting with the Professor, though," I added. "They met for a few hours yesterday and are meeting again today."

"I hope that the Professor might be able to assist him. I believe he might be experiencing some form of post-traumatic stress syndrome."

I nodded. "All the trauma of the past few years are catching up with him. It was bound to happen, and I can't blame him. He's suffered about as much as any of us here."

"You seem admirably calm regarding this dilemma."

"I have to be," I shrugged. "It's Jean-Paul's decision. If he needs to stay here, then he's gotta do what's best for him. I don't want to be separated from him for a few months but if we have to, we have to. It's nothing compared to the time Storm and Wolverine will be apart. And I feel strongly that I need to go on this mission---for all the reasons you said. We can't all bail on this mission. If he stays behind, Jeanne-Marie says she wants to as well. So we'll be down **four** X-men with Storm and Moonstar gone---and it comes to **five** X-men if Panda stays here."

"It is not a question of 'if' in Panda's case. She was quite firm in that regard. She is remaining here. The only question is---do I remain with her and the baby or go through the agony of separating from them? I am experiencing the quintessential dilemma of duty versus the heart."

Poor Hank. He was in mental agony, I knew. Panda would be so mad at him if he went on this mission. But I could tell that he really **really** felt he needed to go. Looks like misery loves company and I wasn't the only one facing the specter of some heartbreaking goodbyes. Neither of us really knew what to do or how things would turn out.

At least Hank and I had comfort in each other. "After all these years, we're still best friends," I said. I knew I could get mooshy with him. "And now we're going through almost the same thing."

"Yes. Discussing this with you has made my burden feel so much lighter. I am so glad to have your friendship, Bobby."

"Me too."

***************

Three days later after Beast's conversation with Iceman in the forest, the scientist found himself in his laboratory. He still dedicated several hours per day to research, and he wanted to continue his work searching for a cure for AIDS. He had not yet eaten breakfast; it was quite early on An'zhina and he heard his stomach rumble.

Just as he began to contemplate breakfast, his communicator sounded. "This is Beast," he replied.

"Hank, it's me," Panda's voice said on the other end. Her voice suggested she was either traumatized or shocked. "Our son is here."

"What??"

Panda had been taking a shower. She had lathered up the hair on her head and shoulders. Suddenly, Panda had felt a few pains, and she felt the urge to push. She gave a few gentle pushes and the baby slipped right out.

When Hank arrived in their room, after having run at breakneck speed, he found Panda naked, sitting on the bathroom floor, cradling a crying red infant. The umbilical cord was still attached.

"This is truly remarkable," Hank said, not long afterwards, in the infirmary with Panda and their new son.

"That is an understatement, Hank," Moira MacTaggert said. "I canna ever forget the pain of childbirth. Panda, you are one lucky lass to not experience that. You musta been in labor all night and not known of it."

Panda smiled. "I know---I'm incredibly lucky. I think I'm still in shock though." The hair on her head and shoulders were still covered with lather from her unfinished shower.

Once Hank and Moira finished running their tests, they pronounced Robert McCoy a very healthy, robust newborn, weighing in at 9lbs, 1 ounce. The baby looked like any other infant; if he had a mutation, it did not result in a physical appearance like either of his parents. 

Throughout the day, various X-men filtered in to see the baby and provide Hank and Panda with well-wishes. Charlotte and Aurora, in particular, were excited to see the baby and they cooed over him. Little Christopher, who would be turning one year old in just a couple of weeks, was a bit too young to know what was going on.

Hank spent most of the day sitting near the bed, holding Panda's hands or holding the baby. He looked at both adoringly while feeling the bitter attack of pain jabbing at his heart. 

**************

Storm sat on her bed, fingering the wooden bracelet. Before she had left the X-men, Wolverine had given her this gift. Carved out of wood and adorned with a few stones from the beach, the bracelet fit her wrist perfectly. Inscribed on the inside of the bracelet were these words: 

__

To the woman I love. 

He had run out of space to write more. But, as always with Wolverine, he conveyed what he needed to within the space of a few words. This gift meant more to her than anything. She had given Logan a few dried flowers from her flowerpots before she left. Now she wished that she had given him more. 

Storm gently kissed the bracelet before beginning her nightly meditation.

***********

"I can't believe Storm's gone," Rogue murmured. She reached for the tube of massaging gel and squirted more onto her hands. She then rubbed her hands together, as she'd seen Gambit do, to warm up the ointment.

Gambit gave a monosyllabic reply. Rogue placed her hands on his back and began to massage him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sugar. You just wanna relax. You don't wanna think 'bout all sorts of depressin' stuff now, do you?"

"Uh-huh," Gambit replied. He then added, "A little up an' to the right, chere. An' a bit harder too, s'il vous plaît."

Rogue complied with his requests, pressing her fingers into his back with more pressure. There was silence for a bit, and then Gambit added, "But chere, if it gonna make you feel better to talk 'bout it some more, den please do. You know dat I'll always listen to you."

"Okay, good. 'Cause I gotta talk 'bout it. Remy, I miss her so much already! And it kills me to see Wolverine moping around, with that empty look on his face. The man looks like he's dead to the world. That is when you can find him. He's usually hangin' out in that forest all day." She paused. "I hate that things turned out this way! I wish things were different."

"Me too, chere," Gambit murmured.

"Poor Storm. And poor Dani! I have nightmare images of that girl tied to Marrow's bed. I can't even imagine it! I worry all the time 'bout both of them."

Gambit was silent for a bit. He then said, "Dey can handle demselves."

"I know….and hey, Remy? I know you just wanna relax and enjoy this. So you don't have to respond if you don't wanna. Just spoutin' off is makin' me feel better. An' I really want you to enjoy your massage."

"Okay." Remy relaxed some more. "A bit lower now, chere…lower…like on the small of the back. Dat's good."

Rogue then went on for a bit more, worrying about Storm and Dani and proclaiming how much she missed Storm. When she felt as if she'd exhausted that topic, she started to focus on happier things. "That little Rob is so cute. I loved gettin' to hold him."

"He got such smoot' skin. He be a beautiful li'l baby," Gambit added, glad to have a more positive subject to dwell on. "You're a natural wit' the babies too, chere."

"You think so? Aww, Remy, you're so sweet. I can't wait till the day we're parents."

"Me neither." Gambit spoke those words with sincerity. He still could not say that he looked forward to the day they had their own baby as much as Rogue did, but he had been warming to the idea over the months. He was starting to embrace the idea of being a father and trying to get comfortable with it.

Rogue continued to massage Gambit. "You want me to do your feet?" she asked, when he'd asked her to cease her work on his back. 

"Nah. How 'bout me reciprocatin', chere?" he asked, turning over onto his back.

"No, thanks. My back's doin' right good." Sitting back on her heels, Rogue reached to put the bottle back on the lubricant, but accidentally squirted some onto her chest and abdomen. 

"Mmmmm," Gambit murmured. "Now dat's a beautiful site." He eyed her breasts and stomach which now glistened with the massage oil. The couple had just come from an afternoon at the beach; they had showered together to remove the sand from their bodies, and then had gone directly from the shower to the massage. They were both naked. 

"You think so?" Rogue asked, getting a twinkle in her eyes. She slowly massaged the oil onto her breasts, gently squeezing a nipple. She knew how much Remy enjoyed a good visual. She provocatively cupped both her breasts. 

"I t'ink I could watch dis all day," he said, echoing her thoughts as he propped his head up with a pillow.

"This feels good," Rogue whispered, moving her hands from her plump breasts to her abdomen. 

"Dis looks good," he responded. Rogue took a pointed look at Remy's midsection and was pleased to see his cock beginning to stiffen.

After giving her breasts and belly equal attention, Rogue reached again for the lubricant and squirted some more onto her hands. She reached downwards and opened her folds, spreading her legs wide. She knew how much Remy adored **looking**, especially down there. The sunlight streaming in from the windows allowed him quite a good view, as she slowly rubbed her lips and her tiny little nub. 

"Oh chere," Remy whispered, his hardness aching. He gazed in awe at her pink and red folds which were so deliciously wet. He reached a hand down to stroke himself. The next thing Remy knew, Rogue covered his body with hers and was bringing her mouth to his, kissing him passionately. As much as he loved kissing his beautiful wife, he yearned to just continue looking at her. The view was so tantalizing. Still, her tongue and mouth were inviting, and he would not complain. He returned her kiss fervently. 

Rogue then snaked her way down his body and grasped his rod. She brought her mouth down and swiftly, deftly enveloped as much of it as she could. She began to move her lips up and down.

"Oh chere," he breathed, "dat feel so good…dat feel so good." He let himself relax and enjoy the work of her lips and tongue. Fleetingly, he thought again how lucky he was to have her. Aside from all the obvious reasons, he loved that she was daring and innovative in bed, unafraid to try new things. He had suspected from the moment he met her that the Southern belle had her wild side. Over the months and years, he had slowly gotten her to explore that wild side.

This bout of lovemaking did not last particularly long. Their very quick arousal happened partly because it had been a few days since they'd had each other. Rogue soon mounted Remy and rode him hard, the couple racing each other to a climax. 

Their lovemaking had had an extra excitement to it, ever since their desire to conceive a child. There was that extra bit of intensity, and their bond with each other felt enhanced too. `Please let this time be the one!' Rogue silently begged the powers that be.

*************

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net Also, if you want to be notified when I upload a new chapter, just send me an email.


	13. Chapter 13

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing. Actually, the term "beta tester" doesn't really do Leigh justice. She helps me create and perfect ideas and is taking a very active role in writing this fic. I have no way to express my gratitude to you, Leigh.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

**************

Jean-Paul returned from a session with the Professor and announced, "I'm going on this mission."

Jeanne-Marie and I were sitting on one of the porch swings, not doing much else besides talking and swinging. Her expression remained unchanged upon hearing the news, but I smiled and jumped up to hug Jean-Paul. "That's great! I'm so happy!"

"What changed your mind?" Jeanne-Marie muttered. Wow, she did **not** sound happy. The swing soon lost momentum. She and I had discussed the question of going on the mission versus staying, and she said she "wouldn't mind" the chance to remain on An'zhina. The disappointment was all over her face. If Jeanne-Marie wanted to stay, she certainly could but I knew she didn't want to be separated from Jean-Paul. They'd separated like this once before, back before her son Stephan left, and she'd **hated** just waiting on An'zhina for her twin to return.

"The Professor is a wise man," Jean-Paul said, turning his head in his sister's direction but still embracing me. "I have learned that I am going to bring my woes with me whether I stay here or go. I have to face my fears about FOH," he insisted, releasing me from the hug. "And I have to deal with all that has occurred in the past few years, and let myself grieve. Running from it is not going to make it go away."

I listened to his words and knew they were sincere. Still, I wonder if he comprehended all that process could entail. I was no psychology expert, but I had to guess that he was still suppressing the grief over his loss of Philippe and the rest of Alpha Flight.

Jean-Paul and I then sat back down on the porch swing with Jeanne-Marie. "You're not happy to hear this," he said to her.

"It does not matter to me," she said, her voice listless. "I want to be with you. If you go, I'll go. Maybe we can do some good for earth."

"For our fellow mutants," I added. 

"I wish the Professor was coming with," Jean-Paul said wistfully. "A few sessions with him did a me world of good. He helped me to see what was bothering me in perspective. Helped me really think through all these questions I had. I feel so much better."

He then reached for his sister's hand and held it. "Don't be sad, ma soeur. Please, be glad for me that I'm going to be dealing with all of this. And I know that deep down, you do want to go on this mission too."

She made a face and then forced a smile. "I told you that I would support whatever decision you make. If you want to go on this mission, then that is good. And half of me does want to help the people on earth. Even though I like it here," she added. I knew that for Jeanne-Marie, having conflicting emotions about something was par for the course. 

That evening, Jean-Paul and I were walking in the forest after dinner, eating ice cream cones. I had to bring up the question that had been on my mind so much lately. "Do you think of Philippe a lot?" I asked. "I was just wondering, because you don't talk about him much." I tried to keep any hint of jealousy and worry out of my voice. "Or at all." What I said was true. I'd hardly heard Philippe's name from him at all, and especially not in the last few months to a year. He had mentioned Philippe a few times back when we had first started dating, but that was about it. In fact, I realized how little I knew about this man--- I had no idea what Philippe was like as a person, what he did for a living, or even how he met Jean-Paul. 

"We've never really discussed this, have we?" he asked softly.

"Neither of us ever brought it up," I said, with a shrug. "I didn't want to bring it up because I assumed it would pain you."

"And I never brought it up because I've been suppressing it all these years," he added. "I've been trying to forget."

I stopped walking and turned to look directly at Jean-Paul. I can't explain why, but the darkness of the impending night was comforting. "When you talked with the Professor, did he suggest anything like….like the fact that going into a relationship with me might've been a way for you to ---to, you know, suppress your sadness over losing Philippe?" I gulped. This thought had lurked in the back of my mind before but I'd never vocalized it to anyone. I think I'd tried to forget it. And it's not like I doubted that Jean-Paul loved me either. But you had to wonder at him getting together with me less than a year after finding out that Philippe had been killed. 

"We did discuss it. Bobby….Bobby, you know that I love you," he began, reaching for one of my hands and grasping it. My hand was sticky from the remnants of my ice cream cone. We both giggled as he wiped his hand on his pants. I shook my head and pretended to be disgusted at that. I then used my powers to frost over one of my hands and squirt some ice water at his sticky hand.

"Better?" I teased.

"Much," he said. He then popped the rest of his ice cream cone in his mouth. A tiny remnant of the dessert was left on the side of his face. I used an iced-over finger to dab at that. (He hated to have mess or stickiness on his fingers, so I wanted to clean it for him.) As always, when I touched his face I noticed how soft and smooth the skin there was.

"Merci," he said. "But seriously, amour, what I was saying is that I love you. I love you very much---I know that. And yes, I think getting involved with you not long after Philippe died was a way to help me stifle what had happened. But it doesn't mean that I love you any less. It just means that I still need to deal with his loss---and with everything else that has happened"

I nodded. "I want to be there to help you, Jean-Paul. We can deal with this together."

He reached to kiss me. It was a brief kiss. He then stepped back and said, "I can accept your offer for help. This stuff is not easy for me, you know. Not at all. Part of me still hates to admit that I could use some help. But from you, ma coeur, I accept it and I do not mind showing some vulnerability."

I digested Jean-Paul's words, enjoying them. I admired his maturity in saying these things to me too, and I silently thanked Xavier for the time he'd spent with him. Jean-Paul and I then walked hand in hand, through the forest. I finally vocalized all those questions that I had in my head earlier. "Jean-Paul, I realized how little I know about Philippe. I was wondering if you'd be comfortable in talking about him. I am just curious to hear about him."

"I would not mind sharing at all. Please, ask whatever question you like. Anything. I have been silent about him for far too long and I welcome the chance to talk."

"Good," I said. Wow. Jean-Paul had come so far. Professor X was truly amazing to help Jean-Paul get to this point. I really wished Xavier would be coming on this journey as well. "So tell me everything. What did he look like? How did you meet? What did he do for a living?"

"Whoa---one at a time, amour! Let me see here. Philippe worked for some big company…I think he said they manufactured or sold office equipment or something. I was never really sure what he did, but he said his title was Property Manager. I think it had something to do with real estate or buildings….or something."

I smiled at Jean-Paul's description of Philippe's work. I had worked in corporate America for several years so I knew a bit about business and about jobs, but there were several other X-men who had no idea—and no interest—about those kind of things. And a corporate job was not as easy to understand or basic as a straightforward job like teacher or doctor.

"He was a handsome man," Jean-Paul continued. I was not surprised. "He had dark hair, brown eyes---beautiful, big eyes. Let me see…. he had a square chin…he was very manly. Big nose. But he was very handsome. He was taller than me, by an inch or two. Muscular too, but not as much as I." Jean-Paul stated that straightforwardly, as a simple fact but I knew that he had his competitive side too. "I so much wish that I had a picture of him. When Jeanne-Marie and Shaman and I returned to earth to search for our families, I…" he broke off for a second, perhaps too pained to go on. I held his hand a little more firmly. After a bit, he continued, "I remember frantically searching the rubble for a picture, until Shaman and Silver Moon had to drag me away."

That was another thing Jean-Paul never spoke about---the months that he and the others stayed on earth until we X-men rendezvoused with them again. But this was not the time to ask. 

"What about his personality?" I asked.

"He was….let me see how to describe," Jean-Paul began. "He tended to be quiet but he was very…solid. He didn't talk a lot, but when he did, he really had something to say. And he could be very forthright. He never lied and he would call it like he saw it. He took me down for my arrogance many times. When I started acting egotistical, he wouldn't have any of it."

I smiled. "Wow."

"Trust me, amour. When Jeanne-Marie says that Philippe helped to change me for the better, she is right."

"I always assumed, from his name, that he was a Quebecer like you, right?"

"Yes."

"How old was he?" I asked. I then added, "Sorry---I know it sounds like I'm giving you the third-degree here. I'm just really curious."

"It's okay. It feels good to talk about this. It feels wonderful since I haven't talked about him for so long. Now let me see….Philippe was five years older than I. When we met, I was 30, I think, and he was 35," Jean-Paul answered.

"How did you two meet?" I asked.

He smiled. "Well, it sounds like a gay stereotype, but we met at the gym. Alpha Flight had its own work out facility, of course but there were times I just liked to get away from the team, so I belonged to a public gym. Philippe and I met in front of some piece of equipment one evening. He asked me how to use it. I had no idea but I tried to impress him by making something up." Jean-Paul and I shared a laugh over that. I could **so** see that happening, too. "We talked for hours," he continued, "and then we walked to this nearby place that had great smoothies. And we kept talking."

"And then…?" I probed.

"We went back to his place and made love," he said simply. 

"So what was the sex like? I mean, if you don't mind me asking," I added. I was intrigued, though, at what he might say. I knew nothing of his sex life with anyone before me. I knew that he'd played the bar scene when he was young. But we hadn't talked much about our previous sex lives at all, really, except that he'd once said that he always preferred to top though he liked to occasionally bottom too. (And I'd said the reverse was true for me, which was partly why we were such a great fit in bed.)

"I don't mind you asking---you can ask whatever you want. The sex was good. I mean, it was alright," he added. "Philippe didn't like to bottom too much. He preferred to give and receive blow jobs but he wasn't really into fucking. So as time went by, I only got to do it when it was like---my birthday or some other special occasion."

I guess I couldn't resist a smile there, because Jean-Paul pretty much got whatever he wanted in bed with me and I knew how much he liked 'fucking' (as he'd so delicately put it.) But, glad for the surrounding darkness, I quickly tried to lose my smile once I realized that it was really inappropriate. So he had better sex with me than with Philippe. It hardly mattered and I was not in a competition with a dead man. Suddenly feeling ashamed of my emotion, I fervently hoped Jean-Paul hadn't seen the smile. "He wasn't a mutant, was he?" I asked, trying to get the conversation off that track.

"No. But he had no problem with me being one. I told him the day we met, and he said that he knew---he'd recognized me as a member of Alpha Flight. As if my ears didn't give it away too. Philippe said he'd never met a mutant before but he didn't have a problem with it. Despite the fact that most people hated us by then, to Philippe it was never an issue."

We went on talking for a bit longer. The conversation had started to drift away from Philippe. 

"It is not just his loss that I must deal with," Jean-Paul said. "There is everyone else in Alpha Flight who was tortured and killed. There was my own torture to deal with." He was quiet and then muttered, "So much."

"I'm glad that you are facing all this and working through it." I paused and added, "It really is a shame that the Professor isn't coming with though."

"He suggested that I talk to Nightcrawler while I'm gone. I think that's not a bad idea. Kurt seems like one who anyone can confide in. I don't like too many people knowing my business though."

"You know…you can always talk to me, too."

"I know, Bobby. And I'm sure that I will. It's just that the Professor said that for something like this, confiding in a third party can be really helpful. You know, someone who is not so emotionally attached to me."

I nodded and said, with a smile, "My therapist used to say that same thing."

We continued to walk through the forest, holding hands. I had complete faith that Jean-Paul would be well in the end. I suspected this process would not be easy and that we'd have some thorny moments, but I thought that in the end, it would be better for him and for me.

At least that was what I hoped.

***************

Well, Jean-Paul had changed his mind about the mission but as Hank told me, a day or two later, that Panda hadn't. She was dead-set on remaining on An'zhina with the baby.

"I never imagined that events would play out in such a difficult and painful manner," Hank muttered to me. 

This was hard to watch. I was thrilled that Jean-Paul (and Jeanne-Marie) would be on the mission, while my best friend was soon going to have to leave his wife and newborn—for several months. My stomach literally hurt as I looked at the pain on Hank's face.

I put an arm around him. (Or, at least I tried to. He's so big my arm doesn't quite make it around his shoulders.) "I wish there was something I could do to help." 

"When I reminded her this morning that I still believe I must take part in this mission, she cried. She then flew into a fit of rage." Hank recounted this argument calmly and without strong emotion in his voice, though I knew how he felt. "She accused me of not caring about the baby and of not loving her."

"Oh Hank. I'm sure deep down she knows you love her."

"I dearly hope so, Bobby. She seems so distant now. Panda is normally a very calm and logical person."

"Well….she did just have a baby. I mean, a major life change like that can kinda change someone, you know. I thought I read something about some women going through periods of depression after giving birth."

Hank nodded. "Yes, I recall reading of postpartum depression during my readings about pregnancy and childbirth as well."

"And add to that the fact that neither of you are getting much sleep---with a crying four-day-old baby in the room. I'm sure you're both on edge. So it's a normal thing," I continued. "And then there's also the fact that you're leaving to go on a potentially dangerous mission….well, no wonder she's angry and freaking!"

After that last lovely bit of wisdom, I got the distinct impression that my words weren't doing Hank much good. I truly didn't know what to say. There was silence for several seconds.

"Have you considered maybe staying behind with her and Rob?" I asked.

Hank nodded. "I have given that idea additional consideration. However, for all the reasons we spoke of Bobby, I feel strongly that I must fulfil my duty and partake in this mission."

"Have you tried to convince her to change her mind? Bring herself and Rob on the mission?"

"I have, indeed, attempted. But she is holding quite firm to her position." He paused. "I do not wish to push her. If she believes that it is in the baby's best interest to remain here…then I do not want to argue. I must accept that this separation shall occur."

"I'm sorry, Hank. I'm so sorry. It must break your heart to think about being away from them." I'd never seen him looking like he did then.

"Panda's anger and sadness break my heart even more," he said, his voice just above a whisper.

*****************

During one long afternoon, Storm remembered back to her first day on board the Vengeance.

Moments after she and Moonstar had been beamed aboard, they found themselves standing inside one of the ship's conference rooms. Psylocke and Marrow stood on the other side of the rectangular table, and the two other crewmembers, Roula and Thyme, were present as well. It seemed strange to be standing around a table with chairs, but that's what the six were doing. Storm had been on board this ship before, and she knew that it rather closely resembled Freedom. At least on the surface.

Psylocke folded her hands over her chest. "Welcome aboard, Moonstar and Storm," she began. Storm remembered standing facing Betsy, thinking that the former X-man clearly enjoyed being in charge. Meanwhile, Marrow stood by, grinning and eyeing Dani as a child might look at a piece of candy. Storm remembered her stomach churning. "There are some rules that must be set," Psylocke continued.

Storm remembered seeing the glint in Betsy's eyes, knowing how much Betsy would like laying down the law.

"First of all, Marrow and I are in charge on board this ship. We make all the decisions about where this ship is going and what we're going to do. You two, along with Thyme and Roula, are to be considered part of our crew and are to follow our orders. No one on the crew makes decisions about the course of the ship or the activities of the Pirates."

Marrow stepped in. "It's not so bad. We don't go around bossing people around. Right, guys?" she asked, turning towards Thyme and Roula.

The two women agreed with Marrow. "It's no big deal," Roula, the one who appeared to be of Middle Eastern decent, said. She spoke with an accent. "We can do what we want day by day, and we help with the killing and torturing when we get an FOH ship." Thyme nodded her agreement with Roula's words. Storm had watched their interplay and remembered making the determination that it seemed sincere; Roula and Thyme seemed honest about their ability to move throughout the ship. They had also seemed nonchalant about the torturing and killing of FOH men.

"Second rule," Psylocke had said. "Per our agreement with the X-men, the two of you are not to interfere with any of the Pirates' activities. As stated in our agreement, you are here for the ride and to accompany us. We might eventually assign you to tasks around the ship, but you're not here to be our servants. You are along for the ride but in no way are you to stop us from carrying out our mission. You can take part in our…retribution activities against FOH if you wish. But if you try to impede us from anything, you will be punished."

"What is the nature of the punishment?" Storm had asked.

"Undecided. It will depend on the nature of the offense. We'll probably start with confinement to quarters and progress from there, if we have to. But don't go getting your hopes up. Neither of you is leaving this ship for 12 months---so any punishment you receive will **not** involve being given a shuttle and forced to disembark. And don't forget that I'm a telepath and telekinetic. I'll know if either of you are planning anything. And to prevent you, all I have to do is think it. Same with confining you to your rooms.

Psylocke allowed a brief pause for the words to sink in, and then spoke again. "Continuing on, you two are free to roam about the ship as you want and use the facilities. The bridge and engineering, though, are off-limits to everyone except Marrow and I. 

"We've installed food replicators in your rooms," she continued. "You're free to order whatever you want to eat, whenever you want it. We don't have set meal times. The replicators in your quarters are the only ones you may order from, and they are programmed to supply you with food only. If you need anything else, you either get it from the supply room – it's stocked with toiletries and that sort of stuff---or you ask Marrow or I for it.

"One other reminder," Betsy continued. "If you try to escape, remember our agreement. You must face the consequences. If you escape---or even try to--- as I do with FOH ships, I will do with the X-men's ship. I'll track down Freedom, use my powers to immobilize the X-men, and I have no qualms about blowing their ship to pieces. If you love Wolverine and the others and don't want to see them blown to bits, you'll abide by our agreement.

"Do not worry," Storm said. "We will abide by our word and the terms of the agreement." She hated this, but knew she had no choice now.

"Good. Are there any questions?" Psylocke asked.

"I have one," Storm had said. "What are our rights and responsibilities as members of the crew?"

Psylocke had looked at Marrow. Marrow had shrugged. "We have not laid those out," Psylocke answered.   


There was silence for a bit. Dani had then spoke. "What do you usually do all day? If you don't mind me asking. Like, you know, on Freedom the X-men work out a lot or hang in the rec room, or we tend to play with the kids. What about you guys?"

Psylocke and Marrow again looked at each other. Neither said anything.

"We have a holodeck," Marrow finally managed.

`It's going to be a **long** year,' Storm had thought. And so far, as she reflected back on this day a few weeks later, she had been right.

**************

When Beast and Panda's son was eight days old, Cyclops and Jean gently approached Beast to discuss the mission to earth. Hank knew the reason for their visit when he saw them approach. It was time to head out on this mission and by now everyone knew that Panda intended to stay on An'zhina. 

"I can only imagine how difficult this is for you," Cyclops said softly.

"So Panda's not any more open to changing her mind?" Jean asked, in a tone that mirrored her husband's.

"No. She is quite firm in that she wishes to remain here---with the baby." Hank spoke calmly, his voice not betraying the pained and bitter arguments that had ensued between him and Panda. 

Scott looked down, swallowed, and looked back up again. "You know, Hank, no one would fault you for deciding to stay here with them. I mean….well, Jean and I would feel a bit more comfortable if there was a doctor on board, but we could ---- "

"No. No, Cyclops, thank you very much for your concern but I am confident that I wish to take part in this mission. For the past several weeks, I have analyzed and re-analyzed my decision. I am an X-man and I am compelled to be a part of this mission. Thousands of mutants are suffering and dying at the hands of the Friends Of Humanity. I want to do whatever I can to stop this, and if it means separating from my wife and son for a duration of time, then so be it. " Hank paused and smiled. "I suspect that the purpose for your visit now is to inquire as to when I would like to leave. I know that you, and most of the other X-men, are eager to begin our quest towards earth."

"Well, we don't want to pressure you…" Jean began, allowing her voice to trail off. 

"We want you to take your time," Scott said. "Don't feel rushed. We know how important forming the bond with Rob is." He couldn't even imagine having to separate from one of his own children when the child was a mere eight days old. He marveled at Hank's devotion to duty.

The eloquent Hank McCoy struggled for an answer. He did not wish to reveal that each day became a form of mental agony for him. Each day he looked at the adorable baby, each argument he had with Panda, and each time he saw her cry tore at his heart. It also made him all the more eager to leave. He had to do it and do it soon---each day made sticking to his principles that much more tormenting. Each day allowed the temptation of remaining to creep that much closer. "I am prepared to set out at any time. In fact, I am willing to leave tomorrow, if the rest of the team is ready. For good measure, I have already recorded several audio tapes of my voice for my son, so that he will have a means to come to know me during these first crucial weeks and months."

Cyclops looked at Beast, a bit taken aback at the barely-concealed eagerness. Hank, apparently, shared their desire to get away from An'zhina. "Are you serious? You mean you could leave tomorrow?"

"Quite serious. Would you like me to talk to the rest of the X-men and inquire as to when they could be ready to begin the mission?"

"We have been kinda doing that informally," Jean said. "Most of the gang is pretty much ready to go whenever."

"That is agreeable to me too. Do we have the complete roster listing which X-men will be taking part in this mission?"

"Yes," Jean answered. She listed the names from the top of her head, counting on her fingers. "The three of us. Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Bobby, Northstar, Aurora, Shaman, Jubilee, Cannonball. Who am I missing?"

"Wraith," Scott supplied for her.

"Oh, yes, Wraith. So a total of 14 X-men. Plus three kids."

"Is Mark not coming with?" Hank asked. Given the events of the past several weeks, he had not had a chance to keep up with these matters. 

"No," Cyclops answered. "It was discussed. He offered to come with, if we wanted him. I discussed it with Rogue and Wolverine. We agreed the risk bringing Mark with didn't outweigh the benefits of having him around. It's not like he can take over a bridge duty shift for someone, for example, since he's not allowed on the bridge." It had been difficult, Scott thought to himself, to get Wolverine into a conference room to talk. The recluse tended to hang around the forested area and was rarely spotted at group meals—or anywhere else. Rumor had it that he even slept outside. Wolverine had also taken his time in replying to the message Cyclops had left on his communicator. 

"Are any other citizens of An'zhina planning to accompany us? Perhaps some wish to return to earth?" Hank asked. In previous missions, there had been a handful of rescuees who, agonized at being separated from their loved ones on earth, wanted to return to their home planet.

"No. None this time."

Hank nodded. He chatted with Jean and Scott for a while longer, and he reiterated that he was willing to depart with the team "at the earliest convenience of the rest of the X-men."

************

We didn't have a going-away party. I remember talking with Hank the day before we left. We talked about feeling sad and depressed at the conditions on earth. We spoke about how easy it had been for us to get comfortable on An'zhina and spend our days enjoying the garden and the beach---while we kinda forgot about the suffering of mutants at home. I remember packing my bags and boarding that starship eager to make a difference. Don't get me wrong---I **was** sad to be leaving An'zhina at the same time. We were trading our little slice of paradise for the coldness and uncertainty of space. But it was time ---past time---to get our butts in gear and get back to fixing things on earth. For some reason, it seemed like we'd been on An'zhina for a while this time but Hank said that he did the math and it came to "merely two months, three weeks, and five days."

I asked him, but he said he didn't want to talk about leaving Panda and Rob. It's not really like Hank to clam up, but I didn't blame him for not wanting to talk about it anymore. I just told him that I'd be there for him if he ever wanted to talk, and he thanked me. I was lucky compared to Hank. The one I was in love with was coming with.

One sorta cool thing happened the day before we left. A handful of people had formed a photography club, and they were taking pictures for the newsletter. 

Well, let me backtrack a bit. The first issue of the newsletter for An'zhina had been in the works for **months**. Those who were working on it, though, said now that they wanted to get it completed before we X-men left on the mission. (And, yes, there **were** a few grumblings along the lines of wishes that we had more mutants willing to join the X-men and fewer who wanted to join the Photography Club or the Newsletter Team.)

Anyway, Jean-Paul and I were enjoying one of our last days at the beach. The people from the Photography Club were on the beach, apparently asking people if they wanted their picture taken for possible inclusion in the newsletter. Soon, they came up to Jean-Paul and I.

"We'd love to have your picture," one of them said, speaking in the deferential tone that many An'zhinians reserved for us X-men. (Sometimes I wondered if it might go to some of our heads.) "You X-men are so brave to be going on the mission," another one said, her voice bordering on gushing.

Jean-Paul and I looked at each other. "Sure," he said, after my nod. "We'd like to have our picture taken."

As we got ready to pose, the 'old' Jean-Paul apparently reared his head, when he said, "Remember, for the picture caption, to mention that I am an Olympic medalist and a decorated former member of Alpha Flight. In fact, I will just send you the caption I want you to use." Yes, he came across sounding as arrogant as those words read. Even I wasn't really sure if he was joking or not.

But we got our picture taken and I didn't think much more of it, until the Newsletter Team handed us copies of the newsletter during lunch, the day before we X-men departed. One of the An'zhinians, Sandy, was sitting at a nearby table and nudged me when she saw the picture. "Too bad you guys are gay," she said. "What a loss for us girls!"

I smiled and opened my copy of the newsletter. There it was, the picture of Jean-Paul and I. He's smiling, looking confidently into the camera. I'm gazing adoringly at him. We're in our swim trunks, which were skimpy --- we looked like we might belong in a gay magazine, given the good view of our physiques. Jean-Paul is bigger and more muscular than I, but this picture showed that I was no slouch either.

"It's a good picture of us," I said quietly to Jean-Paul.

"I know," he grinned. "They got the caption right too." 

Jubilee walked by. "What, was this your shot for _Playgirl_?" she teased. Jean-Paul and I laughed.

Sorry for digressing there. But I have fond memories of taking that picture, framing it, and placing it by our bedside on board Freedom. It made me think of the happy times on An'zhina we were leaving behind. 

But it also made me remember that for the mutants back on earth, an idyllic day at the beach with their lover was nothing more than a fantasy, thanks to the brutal Friends of Humanity. We were long overdue for a return mission to earth and it was high time that we made a real difference for the mutants. 

**************

The X-men departed on Freedom and began their long journey. Their first destination was the uninhabited planet that Storm had learned about during her first week with the Pirates. This planet's supply of dilithium would be used to replenish the X-men's stock so that they no longer had to rely on the Pirates---or anyone else. The X-men estimated a trek of approximately two weeks would be needed to arrive at this planet. Once they acquired the dilithium, they planned a quick trip back in the direction of An'zhina so they could drop off much of the dilithium there. From a strategic standpoint, they needed to stockpile some of the dilithium in case something should happen to either the planet or the supply the X-men would take on Freedom.

The X-men used a conservative approach towards their existing dilithium supply. Not wishing to squander it, they kept most of Freedom "shut down" so as to preserve their stores. The bridge, engineering, personnel quarters, mess hall, gym, rec room, green house, sick bay, and a few conference rooms were the only open rooms. The rest of the ship had been sealed off. As always, they traveled at warp speed and under the protection of the cloaking device, with one X-man stationed on bridge duty at all times. 

Early into the journey, Cannonball found himself in the Danger Room. He was facing off against two older and far more experienced X-men, Cyclops and Gambit. 

"You did well, Sam," Scott said, when the session was over. He reached for a towel and wiped his brow (carefully avoiding his visor, as always.)

"I dunno, Cyclops. I got my butt kicked by you two!" Sam said. His breathing was just now starting to return to normal. He glanced at Gambit and noticed that the Cajun didn't even seem all that winded. He and Cyclops were, despite their sojourn on An'zhina, in phenomenal shape. Sam had even witnessed them—on separate occasions---training without the use of their powers. Even then, they had fought remarkably well.

"Nah, Cyke be right," Gambit spoke up. "You learnin' good. You got dose good reflexes." The three were heading towards the locker room for a shower. "An' you got a real powerful mutation."

"We're lucky to have you on the team," Cyclops added, affectionately slapping Cannonball on the back. Jean always gently reminded him to dole out praise to the team, and he tried to abide by her advice. 

"Thanks! I'm sure glad to be here." As the three walked towards the locker room, they noticed Nightcrawler and Beast enter the Danger Room, apparently for a session of their own. 

"Hey, you guys," Sam began, when the three had entered the locker room, "I got a question for y'all. Where does a guy take a lady on a date on this ship?" Sam had been on board Freedom before, of course, but this was the first time he had a girlfriend here. "I mean, there's so much to do on An'zhina. But here, there ain't really anywhere to just hang out or go for fun, other than the rec room." Which was virtually never empty, Sam said to himself silently. 

Cyclops smiled at Cannonball's question. The guy seemed to have a good, honest heart, Scott thought. No wonder Wolverine was okay with him dating Jubilee. As far as Scott could tell, the gruff man had accepted it---though it was hard to say for sure, since one rarely saw Wolverine nowadays. "Unfortunately, that's a drawback of life on a mission," he answered, with sympathy in his voice. He didn't quite like it either but he readily accepted it. 

"I mean, I know we're here with a serious mission and I ain't trying to sound like a slacker or anythin' like that," Sam qualified.

"I know," Gambit said. "We know," he clarified. "A man's still gotta enjoy himself---'specially durin' dese long days. The problem is, it ain't easy to get any privacy outside of your room here." He had noticed this problem before and was quite glad that Cannonball had decided to bring it up of his own volition. The wheels of his mind started to really turn.

"And sittin' around your room makes a boring date," Sam added. Especially considering how small their quarters here were, he said to himself. He had almost grown accustomed to the spacious rooms on An'zhina.

"True," Scott said, nodding with a resigned smile. He also was having to adjust to the starships's smaller rooms. He and Jean had knocked down the wall to the room next to theirs, thereby making a double-room so that they and their children could have a reasonable amount of space for four people. Still, their space was cramped too, especially as compared to the elbowroom they had on An'zhina.

"What do you and Jean do on a date?" Sam asked Scott, hoping he wasn't breaching protocol by asking. He didn't think so---Scott generally seemed affable and approachable, though not really as open and friendly as he could be. But Sam was a decent judge of emotions and he sensed that Scott liked him.

"Truth be told, Sam," Scott began, with a smile, "when you have two kids, your dating options are a bit limited. We spend most of our free time with the kids---playing with them, reading to them, teaching them. We did participate in some of the….events on An'zhina; we saw the production of Hamlet and we went to a few of the book discussions. But now that we're on this ship, we haven't thought as much about going on a date." 

"Dat's neat dat you're teachin' your kids. I bet a holodeck would be a good place to teach dem t'ings," Gambit began. "Hey, Cyke, what do you t'ink of dat idea? Maybe when we get more dilit'ium, we open dat holodeck up?"

Freedom had always had a holodeck but it had never been used by the X-men. Years ago, when they first took control of the ship, the holodeck was among the first things shut down, in order to preserve precious dilithium supplies. Some of its components had been used to make the Danger Room, but that was it.

"I don't know, Gambit. The holodeck is a real dilithium-waster."

"Maybe we can all discuss dis at a meeting," Gambit suggested. He had to bite his tongue to mask his irritation. This was obviously a decision the entire team should make---not just Cyclops. And, to Gambit, it was a no-brainer. But he really tried to be patient with Cyclops. As much as he preferred not to admit it, he felt some admiration for him, given what he went through with Queen Marina to cure Northstar. 

"Yeah, once we get to that planet, we should be able to fill up on all the dilithium that we need," Sam added. "I gotta think we'd be able to spare enough to get that holodeck up—even if it's only for a few hours a day."

Cyclops was silent for a moment or two. "Let's see what happens when we get to the planet and get the dilithium. Then we can evaluate where we stand and decide then."

"Sounds good," Sam said, with a smile. 

Gambit reminded himself to be patient, though he really missed Storm's leadership.

*************

Later that day, Scott found himself in his room along with his family. It was now bedtime on board Freedom – at least for its younger crewmembers. The two children had been bathed and changed into pajamas. The family now regularly prayed together before the children were tucked in.

"Rory!" Charlotte said. She was asked by her parents to come up with one thing she was grateful for each evening before bed, as part of their prayers. When they had begun this ritual several weeks ago, she had not understood it. But now, after watching her parents do this many times, Charlotte somehow grasped the concept.

Jean smiled. Charlotte frequently named her friend as the thing she was grateful for. 

"I'm grateful that we are all together," Jean said, contributing her thought for the day.

"I thank God that we are all healthy," Scott said. One additional thing Scott was glad for, for the children's sake, was that the playset that he and some of the other X-men had built was brought with the team on this mission. It was being housed in the rec room. The group decided that it would better serve its purpose on the ship, since the only children left on An'zhina were either too old (Lily Pearl, Gail, and Joe) or too young (Rob) to use it.

After Charlotte and Christopher had been tucked in and kissed goodnight, Scott and Jean walked back to their side of the now-double room. Their bedtime ritual usually involved them reading together in bed---that is, on the evenings when they didn't make love. Despite the normal fatigue from interacting with their active children every day, they still found the time to make love several times a week.

"She's so advanced," Scott murmured, getting into bed with a note of pride in his voice. "She's so far ahead of where most kids her age are." He was frequently in awe of Charlotte. 

"She's quite a special girl," Jean smiled, agreeing. She then added, as she nestled under the covers. "And one other thing I'm grateful for is the fact that she's potty trained!" Charlotte had recently passed this milestone.

"Amen. Now we only have one in diapers."

"I'm also glad that Chris is finally weaned," Jean added. 

"I thought that you enjoyed breastfeeding them," Scott said, his voice questioning. He inched closer to Jean so that they were in their usual cuddling position. They always slept in full body contact with each other.

"I do. I did. I mean, it was quite a….an awesome thing, the way to bond with my babies. But you know how tender and sore it made me too." She smiled at the man she loved. "And you have to admit that you missed it too."

"I did," Scott admitted, softly and affectionately patting one of Jean's generous breasts through her clothing. Jean's breasts had often been too sore for much –or any---contact during lovemaking. Even now, Jean was giving them "a rest" and Scott would have to be content to look but not touch.

"Scott, maybe when we pray with the kids, we should also say a few prayers which are wishes—instead of just gratitude prayers."

Scott nodded. "Something on your mind?"

She was silent for a bit. "I just hope we're home soon. I hope we're back to An'zhina soon. I mean, back for a long period of time----not just for the dropping off of the dilithium that we're heading there for."

"Your parents really chewed us out for going on this mission. And they're probably going to do the same again when we see them this time. That's bothering you, isn't it?" he gently asked.

"Yes. And I know they were a little bit right. It **is** probably better for Charlotte and Chris to be on An'zhina. But I don't want to start getting second thoughts. We are completely committed to this mission."

"I hear what you're saying. From one perspective, it is better for Charlotte and Chris to stay on An'zhina, I guess. But guilt isn't going to do us any good, Jean. Charlotte and Chris are **our** kids, and we considered all the options and made the best decision." Scott generally had gotten along well with his in-laws but he had not really appreciated their strongly worded thoughts on what was best for Charlotte and Christopher. He paused, giving himself time to let the brief wave of anger pass. He then said, sincerely, "I also hope we'll be home soon, though. Home for good."

"And I also hope that this mission goes smoothly."

***********

Wolverine was rarely, if ever, found in the rec room. As far as the rest of the X-men could tell, he spent his time in the Danger Room, in his quarters, or on the bridge. He trained more rigorously than any of the other X-men, occupying the Danger Room during most of the hours it was open. He occasionally volunteered to take other people's bridge duty shifts, claiming that a double shift was no strain on him. And he pretty much never ate meals with the group. (He could, however, be spotted in the mess hall far before or after the usual meal times, replicating his meal and taking it to his room.)

The rest of the team knew to give Wolverine space. Those who got up the nerve to ask if he wanted to talk were unsurprised when the response was a curt "no."

"He must be goin' nuts. He's stuck here on a starship—where there's no outdoors and no where to get away from people except your room. And he's without the woman he loves." Jubilee stated these facts gloomily. "I mean, I know it's all a big 'duh' -- but I just dunno what to do about it!"

Jubilee was sitting in the rec room with Cannonball, Rogue, Wraith, and her daughter Aurora.

"Yeah, old Wolverine's been lookin' pretty bad lately," Rogue agreed glumly. She, too, had no idea what to do to cheer him up. She herself felt the loss of Storm acutely. 

"That is, when you can even get a glimpse of him," Wraith added. "I go for days at a time without ever seeing him."

"I know you're worried about him, sweetie," Sam said, reaching to hold one of Jubilee's hands. "But I don't know if there's much we can do 'bout it."

"That's just it," Rogue said. "He's a big boy and he's gotta find a way to cope. Maybe gettin' away from all of us **is** his way to cope. Ain't nuthin' we can do to **make** him feel better. He's gotta deal on his own."

Suddenly, the doors to the rec room parted and Wolverine walked in. This was quite a shocking site --- a glimpse of Wolverine somewhere other than the Danger Room. 

"Wolly!" Aurora exclaimed, and bounded excitedly towards the Canadian. The child was having trouble saying "Wolvie" and therefore tended to call him "Wolly." The rest of the rec room struggled to suppress their giggles at Wolverine's new appellation. Rogue sank her teeth into her bottom lip in order to keep from falling over with laughter. Little Aurora was oblivious to this; she simply missed her favorite uncle.

"Hey kid," Wolverine said, patting her head affectionately. His voice was slightly more animated than his usual mutter, but not by much.

"Want play! Want play!" Rory demanded, tugging on Logan. "Pleeeeease?"

At first, Wolverine did not appear to be amenable to the idea. However, Rory kept begging. Jubilee saw the way he looked at her daughter and, feeling the slightest twinge of jealousy, knew that Wolverine was a goner and Rory would get her way. The child led him towards the area of the rec room where the playset was housed. She hopped onto one of the swings, and he gently pushed her.

The rest of the inhabitants of the rec room were easily within earshot and they didn't want Wolverine to think that they were all fixated on him. So they quickly found a conversation topic and ran with it. However, they occasionally snuck in a few sideways looks at Wolverine and Rory.

***************

I was in the gym when the loud speaker sounded and told us that we were entering the planet's orbit. Wolverine just said, "Let's go on." He was giving Jubilee and I another karate lesson and he didn't want to stop. So Jubes and I basically shrugged and kept up with our lesson. (Besides, given the mood he'd been in, we kinda had to do what he said. I suppose I don't need to say that Wolverine had been tougher than usual in his lessons and about as gruff as ever. Storm's departure was hard enough on all of us, but watching---and dealing with---Wolverine in this condition didn't help much. I just considered myself lucky that he was still even having karate lessons for us.)

But back to our arrival at the planet. We had known that retrieving the dilithium from this planet wouldn't be a big deal, and we'd been right. Whoever was on the bridge, assisted by a few others I think, pressed a few buttons and beamed it up. When all was said and done, we'd taken as much dilithium as Freedom could store. We had enough to power the ship for literally **years**. Of course, it would depend on how we used the dilithium (things like the cloaking device and warp drive use a lot of it), but if we kept being conservative with our usage, we'd be able to go for years and years.

"Let's hope we never have to make another exchange like we did with the Pirates," I heard something breathe during dinner that day. 

Once we beamed up and processed all the dilithium we could store, we set our course for An'zhina. We had to drop off much of our dilithium supply there (it only made sense), and then we would set course for a different planet. This was the planet where we'd been forced to abandon one of our shuttles, and where we had experienced that bizarre encounter with the man who called himself Dagron. We'd taken dilithium from this planet because we were desperate. So we had to head back there to try to learn how much damage we might've caused by leaving our shuttle there---and to see if we could retrieve it

It would be another two weeks back to An'zhina and then, from there, approximately eight days to this planet. (Last time we went to this planet, it took longer to get from it back to An'zhina, but that was because we'd had to travel at a slower speed. This time, with our dilithium coffers filled to the brim, we planned to go at maximum warp.) We set our course, and off we went.

**************

The evening the X-men stocked up on dilithium, Cyclops spoke to the team during dinner. The team continued their practice of eating meals together; the only people who weren't in the mess hall for the evening meal were Cannonball (who had bridge duty) and Wolverine. 

"Since we have enough dilithium to last us a long time," Scott began, addressing the group, "what do you think of the idea of turning the holodeck on? We could have it on for three or four hours a day. It does require **a lot** of dilithium, but if we limit our usage, we should be just fine. Maybe we could even have a sign-up sheet for it, in case more than one person wanted to us it at a time."

Cyclops's idea was very, very well-received. The X-men were all eager for a means of entertainment and escape---and it was only two weeks into a potentially long mission. The holodeck opened the next day, for three hours per day. Soon, various X-men had signed it out days ahead of time.

Scott smiled at this small, positive opening to the mission. Without the Professor or Storm, Cyclops was the only leader on this mission. (The Field Commanders---Rogue, Wolverine, and Beast---were all present too, of course. But Scott was clearly considered the one in charge, as opposed to sharing leadership with Storm or Xavier.) Cyclops had craved a win, and this was a step in the right direction.

***************

"So what's the scoop with Marrow and Psylocke? Are they friends or are they just two people who work together and put up with each other?"

Dani Moonstar posed the question to Storm after another flute playing session. As the more skilled player, Moonstar always had something to teach Storm. The two women would play music and compose songs together for several hours each day. They didn't have a lot else to do. 

As usual, they were sitting in one of their quarters---this time, Dani's. Dani sat on the bed and Storm on one of the chairs. The personnel quarters on board the Vengeance were twice as big as Freedom's; the Pirates had knocked down walls between rooms in order to achieve double-sized rooms. They certainly had no need for the hundreds of personnel quarters since having a large crew was not in the plans for the Pirates.

"I do wonder about it," Storm said. There also wasn't much else to do but speculate and chat about others on board the ship. "As far as I can tell, though, the two don't interact much. I've hardly seen them together since we….boarded this ship."

"Yeah, but this is such a big ship, it's not like we really run into **anyone** that much." Dani's words were true. With only six people on board, the corridors of the Vengeance were usually deserted. When Dani would walk, say, from her room to the holodeck or to the gym or to Storm's room, she rarely ran into anyone else. It was almost a surprise to enter the gym and see Marrow or Roula or anyone else there. The crew didn't take meals together either, so that eliminated one possible place to run into others. 

"My speculation would be that Marrow and Psylocke don't…'hang out' together much. Their personalities don't seem all that compatible." As she spoke, Storm took a moment to silently give thanks. As interminable as her stay on the Vengeance was shaping up to be, at least she had Dani. The two women got along quite well and always had. Their personalities complimented each other and they found much to talk about. 

"Yeah, I think you're right."

It was day 24, Storm silently noted. Three hundred-forty one more days to go. Three hundred-forty one. The length of the days proved difficult to endure. Storm found herself going to bed earlier than she had done in the past and sleeping as late as her body allowed her to. When she could, she slept for 9-10 hours. Her body, unfortunately, required only about 6-8 hours, so she often found herself waking up earlier than she wanted and attempting to persuade her body into another hour or two of slumber.

A typical day, then, would begin with Storm knocking on Dani's door, or vice versa. Once both women were finished with their morning bathing and grooming, they met in one of their rooms and ate breakfast together. Dani used to be a fast eater, Storm observed, but life on board the Vengeance had persuaded her to slow down. The two women then leisurely ate together, chewing each and every bite thoroughly and lingering over conversation. They managed to stretch meal times out to over an hour.

Storm greatly missed being able to have a say in the course of the vessel. She and Moonstar were not allowed on board the bridge and had no influence on the plans of the Pirates. It was not in Storm's nature to be a passive crewmember. This, like everything else on board the Vengeance, took some getting used to.

Deprived of access to the bridge or a say in the ship's direction, Storm spent the rest of a typical day doing a small variety of activities. Working out in the gym was a favorite; she usually spent at least 3-4 hours there every day, both practicing her powers and engaging in other, more traditional exercises such as weight lifting and jogging. She was determined that her physical conditioning would improve; when she returned to the X-men, she wanted to return with none of her strength or power diminished. She knew her fighting skills would be somewhat rusty, but she could keep her body in peak condition.

The holodeck was another place that both Storm and Moonstar frequented. They were careful to not use it more than a few hours per day; Storm had concerns with "hol-addiction". Still, the two would often cue up some of the outdoor programs and lose themselves in a lush garden or thick forest. It was never as good as the real thing, just as replicated food was never as tasty as real food. Storm dreamed fondly of her days on An'zhina and on the Paradise planet, and even back on earth. 

Storm had brought several books from An'zhina with her. She was plowing through them faster than she wished. She and Moonstar would also print and read some of the books that the computer was able to download. Never before in her life had Storm had so much time to read and to write in her journal. 

Storm and Dani would also sometimes pray and meditate---either alone or together. Again, Storm marveled at the uninterrupted time she had to pursue this. It was quite a change from the constantly-changing and hectic life she had led as an X-man back on earth. As with everything, she attempted to search for the positive. 

The Vengeance's computers also had some movies downloaded, and Storm and Dani watched them upon occasion. Some of the movies weren't half-bad. Once in a while, one of the crew members actually joined them in watching a film.

Despite these activities, the days dragged. Storm thought of Wolverine---and the rest of the X-men---all the time. She missed Logan's loving embrace, the laughter and playfulness of Rory and Charlotte, the friendship she shared with Wolverine, Gambit, Rogue, Jean and others---and so much more. Storm sometimes wrote letters to Wolverine (and occasionally some of the other X-men) which she knew she'd never be able to send. She would have to be content to compose and leave them in her journal.

As un-enjoyable as Storm's time on board the Vengeance was, she knew that she had nothing on Moonstar.

__

At least I do not have to submit sexually to one of my shipmates, Storm wrote in her journal. _I know that, as the saying goes, hindsight is always 20-20. But I now firmly believe that this exchange was morally wrong. Surely we knew at the time that this "deal" would require Dani to provide sexual favors to Marrow. How in the world could we have allowed this in good conscience? How could we have allowed Dani to sacrifice herself like this, when we claim to be a group that cares about its members?_

The only thing that made the deal palatable to Storm was the fact that she herself was accompanying Dani. If the X-men had sent Moonstar to the Pirates alone, Storm could not have accepted that decision at all. _At least I am with her_, Storm wrote. At least there was someone to share the pain with Dani, even if it meant Storm herself suffered.

Moonstar herself never spoke much about her time with Marrow. Storm gently asked the young woman a few times whether she wished to discuss this. Moonstar hadn't wanted to. Storm wished that Moonstar wasn't choosing to play the stoic. Looking into Dani's eyes, though, Storm knew of the ordeal she was going through. 

More than once, Marrow would interrupt the meals that Storm and Moonstar ate together. Usually, Dani would roll her eyes and oblige Marrow by going off to take the meal with her. 

"It's a duty," Dani would say. "Like a chore you don't want to do, but you have to. Like going to the dentist." Dani paused and added, with a smile, "And not just for a routine cleaning, but for five root canals."

Storm returned Dani's smile, knowing well that Dani's levity was attempting to mask the pain.

************

Moonstar had brought a journal with her when she joined the crew of the Pirates, but she had not written in it. Every time she picked up the pen to write, she was overwhelmed with melancholy thoughts. _No need to record any of this, _Dani told herself. _So why am I bothering? My life's pretty pathetic right about now. _

But it's still better than watching Jubilee and Cannonball together, Dani told herself. _Anything is better._

Marrow had left Dani alone during her first day on board the Vengeance. In retrospect, Dani mused that perhaps Marrow had been giving her time to get adjusted. Uncommonly thoughtful of Marrow, Dani remarked to herself.

The second day on board the Vengeance had been a different story. Marrow approached Moonstar early in the day.

"You wanna….spend some time together?" Marrow had asked, though her tone suggested more of a command than a request.

"Sure," Dani replied. She wasn't going to fight it. She knew full well why she'd been brought on board this ship. She was to be Marrow's plaything. Moonstar had silently agreed to this scenario when she had agreed to the exchange the Pirates made with the X-men. She was going to be here for an entire year and there was no use struggling against her fate, Moonstar reasoned to herself.

The two women had walked around the ship, Marrow giving Moonstar a tour (despite the fact that Thyme had given Moonstar and Storm a tour the previous day.)

"Let's go watch a video on the holodeck," Marrow then said, after their somewhat awkward and mostly silent walk around the ship had been completed. 

"Sure, that sounds cool," Dani answered, vaguely wondering what Marrow's dating life on earth had been like. She liked the idea of a watching a video, too. At least it would spare them from having to talk.

The video that Marrow had in mind, however, was a pornographic film. It was a typical smut film featuring lots of lesbian sex. Marrow pounced on Dani barely ten minutes into it.

Their sex life, after a few weeks now, was about what Moonstar had expected. She hadn't expected Marrow to be a particularly tender or passionate lover, and she had been right. Marrow wasn't much for foreplay and, again, Dani hadn't been surprised at that either. Marrow was very picky about how and when someone touched her, Dani soon discovered, so Dani mostly laid back and allowed Marrow to take the lead. Marrow had grown a small bone in the vicinity of her pelvis, and she enjoyed penetrating Moonstar with it. That, along with grasping Dani's breasts and fingering Dani's pubic region seemed to be Marrow's favorite activities in bed. She rarely asked Dani to reciprocate in any way.

Moonstar couldn't say that she achieved much physical satisfaction out of their sex, but every now and then she did reach a small orgasm. Dani was gifted with a vivid imagination, and she sometimes pretended that Marrow was the beautiful Jubilee. Moonstar often thought back to the women in her life who she had made love with and wistfully recalled what it had been like. 

Though their sex life was unsurprising for Dani, the rest of their relations with each other did surprise Dani. She had expected Marrow to be content with them just having sex and that to be it. Yet Marrow kept hoping for more. She took some of her meals with Dani and initiated time for the two of them to spend together nearly every day. Marrow's conversation skills hadn't improved any and it was always a challenge just to keep a conversation going with her. Still, Moonstar put in a decent effort at it. 

__

A good sense of humor, Dani thought to herself. _That's always gotten me through whatever I faced._

Well, that and a good bottle of wine.

***************

The two weeks back to An'zhina seemed to pass quickly. (The holodeck helped, I think. It was usually booked up a few days in advance and no one was allowed to monopolize it, but I was still able to get in maybe once every few days. Jean-Paul, Jeanne-Marie and I used it one day for a program that allowed us to float around like on asteroids through space. It was very cool, very trippy even----though we sure knew that the reality space travel wasn't exactly that exciting. Jean-Paul and I also found a program that simulated the San Francisco Bay area. I was in paradise for those hours we spent walking the streets in my old stomping ground. I knew it was all an illusion though.)

Anyway, where was I? We flew Freedom back towards An'zhina, where we deposited much of our dilithium stock with very little fanfare. I guess we were eager to not get nostalgic for our home but instead continue with the mission and get to the planet where we left our shuttle. On An'zhina, Warren worked the controls from the ground, taking the dilithium we beamed down and ensuring it was placed properly in the underground storehouse that he'd helped set up specifically for this purpose. The whole procedure took just under an hour. During that time, I know that Jean and Scott beamed up their family and spent some time with them, and that Hank beamed Panda and Rob aboard as well so that he could be with them.

I got a glimpse of Rob. He had been growing **fast** and was a large, hardy baby. He had brown eyes and a shock of dark brown hair. I also noticed, interestingly, that he was holding a doll, and that the doll looked familiar -- but different than the ones replicated on An'zhina. Then I remembered: it was one of the dolls that the native people on the Paradise Planet had given Jubilee and Jean for their babies. I smiled at seeing it handed down like that and wondered what the natives would say at "Goluba" having become a parent.

I can only guess how difficult that was for Hank, to have to say farewell to Rob and Panda again (this time, for probably a much longer period of time.) I got a glimpse of Panda. She did not look pleased.

*************

"So, how's it going, Hank?" 

The day after we'd set out (again) from An'zhina, I knocked on Hank's door and asked to be let in. That was my lame opening. I then added, "I just wanted to check in on you. You know---see how you're doin' and all." I'd hardly spoken with Hank since his all-too brief reunion with his wife and baby. He did share with me, though, that they ran a few tests on Rob and discovered that he **was**, indeed, a mutant. Whatever the nature of his mutation was, it wasn't obvious and perhaps we might not know till he hit puberty. We still didn't know what Aurora's mutation entailed either.

"I have been better, my friend," Hank said, answering my question. He gestured for me to enter his room. I did so and sat myself on the side chair. He'd turned his head away from me, but I could still see the agonized look on his face.

"You know, there's still time," I began, trying desperately to find a way my friend could feel better. "Maybe you could just take the shuttle back to An'zh----"

Hank put out one hand, as if to stop me. "Bobby, please, I beg of you---cease that manner of talk. I cannot forsake my duty as an X-man. Even if it means forsaking my duty as a father and a husband." I'd never heard Hank sounding quite as he did now. "Even if it means feeling torn in two."

At that last tormented sentence, I got up and hugged him. The poor guy. Did anyone even understand what he was experiencing? I guess I don't need to restate the obvious. He was away from his wife and newborn, his wife not fully understanding why or supporting him in this. And I knew how much he truly loved them both. But Hank has always been a man of duty. Somehow he was going to have to work out the contradictions inside him, and there wasn't much that I could do.

I kept hugging him and murmuring the usual platitudes. We stayed hugging for a long time, until he broke it off. "Thank you for your concern, Bobby. I do not wish to discuss this, however."

I nodded. I couldn't **make** him talk. We took out a deck of cards and ended up playing card games for a few hours. Then I brushed him out completely. We didn't talk much at all, but he hugged me when I left the room. And he still looked all misty.

*************

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net 

Okay, I must say something. I've become obsessed with Marion Zimmer Bradley's novel **The Catch Trap**. I first read it ten years ago, re-read it last week, and I think it has influenced my work a great deal. Has anyone else read it? If you have, please feel free to email me to chat about the book. If you haven't read it, get thee to a used book store (this masterpiece is out of print!) and check it out.


	14. Chapter 14

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

*************

Rogue and Gambit were having a lighthearted talk in their quarters one night. "Bobby told me something funny today," Rogue said with a smile. "I don't know how we got on it, but we got to talkin' 'bout sex. He said that he and Northstar use food sometimes. He said Northstar likes it every now and then---say, licking chocolate sauce or honey off Bobby's back. Or 'other places', as Bobby put it."

Gambit chucked. "Remember the times we tried it?" He and Rogue had tried mixing food and sex on a few occasions. The time when she licked chocolate off his back was mutually enjoyable. Other instances weren't as much fun, such as the time they got crazy with the whipped crème. It had all ended up way too sweet, sticky, and very messy. Rogue remembered getting a mouth full of whipped cream mixed with some of Gambit's body hair---not the most pleasant combination in the world. They'd wound up making a break for the shower. Thinking back to that, Rogue thought perhaps she should have shared it with the other women that day when they'd sat in Storm's room and reminisced about their worst times in bed. 'Cept that,' Rogue said to herself, 'it had ended well.' The part in the shower had been great, once Rogue scrubbed all the whipped cream off herself. 

Gambit then asked, "Did Bobby say he liked it?"

"He said he wasn't crazy 'bout it, but Northstar's the one who really likes to put the stuff on him and eat it up. Bobby said he's okay goin' along with it. Seems like Northstar sure does like to eat." She giggled, "Food, I mean. He's a big eater, ain't he?"

Gambit and Rogue had indeed witnessed Northstar gulp down his food at mealtimes. Occasionally, the speedster would then give his lover an endearing look and start on Bobby's own food, once he'd wiped his own plate clean. "I t'ink it got somet'in' to do wit' his hyperspeed," Gambit speculated. "Maybe he needs more food. Jeanne-Marie eats a lot too. Neither of dem has much fat on deir bodies dough."

"Yup—I bet their hyper systems just gobble all that food up."

"So what else did Bobby say?" Gambit asked.

"Nuthin' much," Rogue said, noticing that Gambit truly seemed interested in the topic. "He just asked if you and me ever tried the food thing in bed. I told him 'bout our great adventure with the whipped cream." They giggled together over that. 

*************

A few days after the X-men had set out from An'zhina after depositing their excess dilithium, several X-men lingered in the mess hall after dinner. Jean Grey had replicated a new dessert pattern, one that was both exotic and delicious. It consisted of fried banana, with vanilla ice cream and a rum-caramel sauce, embellished with raspberry and strawberry slices. It was simple but quite incredible, and many X-men found themselves grateful for the surplus of dilithium which allowed such luxuries. During their last mission, when they'd barely been able to return to An'zhina, dessert had been a forbidden extra which wasted dilithium and was therefore off-limits. Their dessert then had consisted of plain fruit and nothing more.

Iceman and Northstar sat next to each other as usual. In a somewhat giddy mood, perhaps inspired by the rum in the decadent dessert, they were more affectionate in public than usual. They held hands on the table a bit, and at one point, Northstar fed Bobby slices of the banana. Rogue and Gambit giggled at their display and then took to sliding slices of the banana in each other's mouths as well.

After dinner, many of the X-men headed off for a basketball game. Another group had talked about programming a "Jungle Adventure" game on the holodeck, and went off to play that. 

Leaving their son Christopher in the hands of Nightcrawler (who was gladly performing babysitting service for him and for Rory), Jean and Scott brought Charlotte to the rec room. They found themselves sitting on the floor by a large chest, sorting through the different toys that were stored in the rec room. Charlotte was gleefully picking up toys, testing them, and cavalierly throwing ones she didn't like to the side (much to the dismay of her father.) 

The portion of the rec room that Jean and Scott were sitting in was hidden from the entrance to the room by an angled wall. (The rec room had, after all, been expanded by knocking down the walls of a few different rooms—so the construction of the room itself didn't have the usual straight lines and rectangular shapes of most of the conference rooms on the ship.) Jean and Scott were present in the moment with Charlotte, watching her sort through the toys, and were not paying attention to whether or not they were alone. They didn't hear the door when it opened.

"I can't believe it. They were all over each other at dinner," Cyclops was muttering.

"Well, holding hands in public isn't a cardinal sin," Jean countered.

"I know, but the feeding each other the dessert----**that** was truly disgusting," he said, with great umbrage in his voice.

"It did seem a little inappropriate for the dinner table," Jean conceded. They were talking about Iceman and Northstar, but she rationalized that she didn't like it too much when Rogue and Gambit showed that kind of affection in public either.

Cyclops shook his head. "I can't believe that I gave up my—**our**—wedding vows to save the life of someone who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'morals'!"

Jean started to say, "Now, Scott, that isn't fair," but she ended up gasping when she saw the two men that she and her husband had been discussing now standing right before them. Jean was stunned; she hadn't heard them enter. She was not in the habit of using her powers when she didn't need to, and therefore hadn't been mentally scanning the room either.

"I really don't appreciate you acting as our moral authority, Cyclops." 

Northstar said the words flatly. He was fuming, clearly in fighting stance; Jean guessed that he must have overheard the entire conversation. Bobby stood behind Northstar, looking quite worried.

Scott leapt to his feet, and Jean followed automatically. She saw, in the space of a second or two, Scott looking first startled and shaken, and then defensive and angry. "Shut your mouth, Northstar," he said. "It's because of me that you're alive---and don't you forget it."

"Ooooh, so I owe you forever now?" Northstar asked, sarcasm dripping. "So I have to listen to your bigoted crap?? You're as bad as Todd."

In the space of an instant, Jean caught that her husband was about to punch Northstar. Quick as a wink, she placed a hand on Scott's arm. "Don't do it, Scott," she said soothingly.

Almost simultaneously, Bobby stepped in front of Northstar. "Come on, Jean-Paul," he said quietly. "Let's not pick a fight."

"No fight!" Charlotte said, stepping in between the two couples. She had watched the exchange from the sidelines, somewhat horrified and frozen. Upon experiencing her father ready to strike someone, she was shocked into action and moved from her paralysis. "No fight!" she repeated, her voice almost a yell. She grabbed onto one of Scott's legs. 

Northstar and Cyclops were forced to soften their fighting stances due to the interventions of the others. Cyclops felt that he had no choice but to pick up his daughter, given her insistent tugging on his pants leg. There was awkward silence for a few seconds.

"Do me a favor and keep your bigoted bile to yourself, or maybe at least away from impressionable children," Northstar said, never breaking his gaze from Scott. His voice was low and simmering with anger, but he'd relaxed from attack position. Bobby had a hand on one of his shoulders. "You're not the judge of what is moral and what isn't."

  
Scott opened his mouth as if to reply, but Charlotte tugged at his pants again and he remained quiet. A second or two after his demand of Scott, Northstar took Bobby's hand and led him from the rec room.

****************

Well, our relations with Jean and Scott were never great, I told myself. Now I started to wonder if they were ruined beyond repair. 

****************

Freedom continued its journey towards the strange planet, the one from which the X-men had taken dilithium and on which they had been forced to leave a shuttle. Using warp drive, they came nearer and nearer to the planet. Just a few more days remained before they would be able to reach the planet's orbit.

One morning, Rogue woke from her sleep early. She clutched her stomach, feeling a dreadful sensation inside, a nausea more severe than any she had experienced before. She made it to the bathroom just before she vomited. 

When she had finished brushing her teeth, she looked into the mirror and smiled, despite the queasy feeling in her stomach, her bleary eyes and tousled hair. Her menstrual period was now approximately six days late and apparently she had morning sickness.

__

It's time to tell Remy, she told herself. She hadn't wanted to get his hopes up when her period had been just a few days late. But now she'd had two days in a row of nausea in the morning. And six days was now a substantial number of days for her period to be late.

"What you doin' up so early, chere?" a groggy Gambit asked, when he felt and heard Rogue get back into bed. He kept his eyes closed and Rogue knew he was only partially awake.

"Nothin', sugar," Rogue whispered. She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Go back to sleep."

Gambit mumbled something incoherent in reply, and promptly fell back asleep. Rogue, however, remained too excited for slumber. Her queasiness had subsided for the moment, fortunately. At first, she sat up in bed, just smiling and looking at Remy as he slept. She loved seeing the stubble on his face, his now messy hair, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She loved **him.** Rogue remained simply watching Gambit and grinning for a while. After a bit, though, she decided to start her day even though it was far more early than usual. 

After showering and dressing, Rogue headed straight for sick bay. It was time to get a pregnancy test. She dreaded this part quite a bit, for two reasons. One, she hated the possibility that she could be wrong. And secondly, approaching Hank would be a bit uncomfortable too. As was obvious to everyone, he was reeling from the fact of his separation from Panda and Rob. Rogue didn't think Hank wanted to hear much about babies.

Beast was in the infirmary, as usual, and he appeared unsurprised when Rogue requested a pregnancy test. All the X-men knew that she and Gambit had been trying to conceive. He behaved businesslike and straightforward as he drew her blood. 

The two chatted as they waited for the results of the test, avoiding the subject of Panda and Rob. They spoke mostly of the planet that Freedom was approaching, speculating as to what they might encounter there and on the possible ramifications of having left their shuttle there. 

After not too long, the test results were ready. 

****************

"Remy! Hey, Remy---wake up!"

Rogue shook her husband gently, but not without a bit of her renowned strength.

"Huhhh? What is it, chere?" Gambit asked, opening and rubbing his eyes. "Everyt'in' ok?"

"Remy, I had a pregnancy test!" Gambit was now sitting up in bed. Rogue was grasping his arm. "I'm pregnant!"

"Mon dieu!" Gambit exclaimed. Logically, he knew that it wasn't shocking. But still. After months of trying, it now was a reality. He pulled her into an embrace.

"Oh, Remy, I'm so happy!"

"Me too, chere." Gambit spoke the truth. He still had his hesitations over fatherhood. But seeing her so truly overjoyed, he could not help but to mirror her glee. 

Rogue reached for Gambit's face and planted a random smattering of kisses all over it. She squeezed Gambit against her.

"Chere," Gambit managed.

Rogue released her grasp on Remy. "Oh, sorry, sugar. Was I crushin' you?"

"A bit. Dis much better now." He sighed and affectionately ran a few fingers through her hair. "We gonna be parents."

"I know," Rogue said, smiling. "We're gonna have our own little baby to raise. Oh God, Remy, I can't wait! I'd been a bit worried I couldn't get pregnant, since it was takin' so long."

"Aww, chere. It didn't take dat long at all. So we gonna be parents soon! Do we know how far along you are?"

"Hank said I'm between twenty-one and twenty-eight days pregnant. He's got some fancy new blood test that's real precise." She kissed him again, and then said, excitedly, "C'mon! Let's go tell the others!"

"Remy's gotta shower first."

"Oh, yeah."

Rogue stripped off her clothing and followed him into the shower. They exuberantly and haphazardly made love in the small shower, though the normally suave Gambit nearly lost his footing at one point. They laughed together at the miscue and kept on making love.

Once they were dried and dressed, they paid a visit to the rec room and then to the gym, joyously sharing their news with the rest of their family. At dinner that evening, the X-men gave a toast to the couple and their upcoming "arrival."

***************

Jean-Paul and I were talking before bedtime one evening. He and I were sitting in bed together---I was reading a book I'd brought from An'zhina and he was working on some sort of puzzle he brought with.

I yawned. "It's just about about bedtime for me," I said.

"Me too, amour," he said, copying my yawn. "You want talk before we go to bed?"

This was unusual. He didn't often initiate a talk right before we were ready to sleep. He didn't initiate a lot of "talks" period. "Sure," I replied.

"Do you ever…how can I say?" he began, awkwardly. I watched, intrigued; it was not often that Jean-Paul struggled for words. "Does it ever bother you that I take the lead more? You know, in sex? I'm the one who usually decides what we do."

I thought about it for a second or two. "I'm okay with it," I said simply. "If I really want something----or really **don't** want something---I'll say so."

"You almost never do."

I smiled and said, "That's because you almost never suggest something I don't like." What I said was true. Jean-Paul usually directed what we did in bed; he'd usually suggest or request something, and I'd comply. It didn't bother me in the least. In fact, I liked it. So I added, "I thought that you knew that I liked…when you take the lead."

"Yeah. I mean, I did know. But I just wanted to make sure you're happy with things," he said. "You would tell me if you weren't, right?"

"Yeah." I then smiled. "Wow, this therapy stuff is really working. I can't believe how well Kurt, and the Professor, have gotten you to open up and talk."

He playfully tweaked the side of my face. "I've always been open with you."

"Hmmmm….really? Have you discussed being in **denial** with Kurt ever?"

"Very funny."

We were quiet for just a bit. He shut off the light and we got under the covers. But now I wanted to talk more. "So how is it?" I asked. "Working with Nightcrawler?" Jean-Paul was still having "meetings" (that's what he called them, though they were basically therapy sessions, as I understood them) with Nightcrawler. During the few weeks we'd been in space now, he'd met with Kurt maybe four or five times, to continue the work he'd started with Xavier---on dealing with his past.

"He's good. I like him."

Drawing out Jean-Paul on this topic wasn't going to be totally simple, I saw. "How does he compare to the Professor?"

"Both are good listeners." A pause. 'I don't know. I like them both. I talk about God and religion sometimes with Kurt, but he doesn't shove it down my throat. I mean, he knows I'm Catholic already anyway."  
  
"What did Kurt say about our little incident with Scott?" I asked.

Jean-Paul's answer was short. "I didn't tell him about it."

"Really? So….what are we going to do about it?"

"What's there to do? Scott's a judgmental asshole and that's pretty much all there is to it." 

"Jean-Paul. You know we're gonna have to deal with this sooner or later. We see Scott and Jean all the time, and we can't just keep ignoring them. Not when we all live in such close quarters." Since the clash we had with them, we'd of course run into Scott (and his family) during meals and a few times in the Danger Room. None of us said much, or anything, when we were in the same room. I hadn't told anyone else of our run-in with them, either. I think some people had guessed that something happened, given our obviously frosty relations with them. But I didn't want to talk about the incident with any others, really. As stupid as Scott's comments were, I didn't want to be like bad-mouthing him. He did save Jean-Paul's life. 

"Rober, my amour, I don't have an answer. I don't want to think about it either. I do recognize that I probably owe Scott my life but I still do not think that gives him the right to act as if he's so morally superior to us. Heterosexuality isn't superior to homosexuality." Jean-Paul took a breath. He'd been speaking quickly. "Just thinking about this makes me angry."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I didn't mean to get you riled up before bedtime. It's just that we'll have to deal with what happened sooner or later."

"I vote for **later**. Goodnight, Bobby"

****************

A full day had passed, and less than 24 hours later, it was time for Northstar's bridge duty shift. This time, he had the dreaded night shift. An alarm took him from his sleep, its blare signaling an end to the precious slumber. Northstar noted that Bobby slept right through the alarm. He smiled affectionately at Bobby's boyishly handsome face, as the Iceman lay oblivious to the attention. 

Northstar then pulled himself out of the bed and reached for the uniform, which he had neatly draped over the chair the evening before. He pulled it on over his underwear, making as little noise as possible. After a quick stop in the bathroom, he then left the room and headed for the bridge.

When he reached the bridge, his system reacted with a moment's shock. The lights were off. For a split second, he feared that the bridge had been abandoned. Northstar was startled again when his eyes (now adjusted to the dark) fixed on Remy LeBeau.

Gambit was slouched in the captain's chair, wearing a tight tank top and ripped jeans. The X-men were much more casual about uniforms now; many chose to forgo uniforms in place of their own preferred clothes. And given Freedom's surplus of dilithium, temperatures on board were now much warmer---which meant that Remy could be comfortable in that clingy tank top.

None of those logical thoughts were on Northstar's mind then. He couldn't tear his eyes off the man occupying the captain's chair. The tank top Gambit wore helped to highlight his muscular arms. He sat at the helm of the ship, the picture of confident sexuality. 

Gambit absentmindedly shuffled a deck of cards, his hands moving nimbly. A surreal glow from the instrument panels was cast over Remy's face. And as magnificent as the body (what Jean-Paul could see of it) was, it was Gambit's **face** that nearly took Northstar's breath away. Loose strands of hair fell in front of the face, obscuring the eyes.

The eyes. Gambit's eyes, striking in the darkness, were glowing just mildly. Those eyes---with their red and blackness---could appear demonic, but they were surrounded by the features of an angel. Northstar had always observed Remy and wondered what mystery lay behind those eyes which looked as if they belonged to a otherworldly creature. There was a glint of mischief there too, Jean-Paul noticed. And sorrow. He could only guess what sort of sadness lay buried behind there. 

Remy turned in his seat and greeted Jean-Paul with a cocky grin. "Bonsoir, mon ami." He stretched as he said the words, pulling his arms back. Remy's voice was reminiscent of silk with a velvet trim. It was smooth, but the spicy Cajun accent added texture as well. 

"Bonsoir," Northstar said. He paused, and added, "You have the lights off."

"It's nighttime," Gambit said simply. "Besides, dey're not needed to see the stars outside. Or the computer screen."

"Your eyes…do they make it easier for you to see in the dark?" It was something Northstar had always wondered about. He hoped that nothing in his voice would betray the near-fascination he felt about Remy's eyes.

"Lemme jus' say dat I don't need as much light as mos' people do."

Northstar still looked at the Cajun and he had to admit to himself that he'd never seen a man looking more beautiful than Remy did then. Northstar loved Bobby with all his heart; truly, he did. And Bobby was handsome, though more adorable and darling than anything else. Gambit was just downright sexy.

Looking at Gambit, Jean-Paul fleetingly remembered back to his promiscuous days. Something about Gambit brought those memories on. Something about Remy just dripped sex, and always had. Before he knew Bobby, before Philippe, Jean-Paul had been no saint. He remembered his days of casual sex, of walking into a bar, knowing he was going to find a man, knowing he was going to get some action that night. He remembered checking out the men and sensing the others eyeing him with admiration and awe. He remembered picking out a man, strutting up to him. Northstar recalled the impatience he would feel as they made small-talk, though fortunately that part never lasted long. They would chat, Jean-Paul would let the other man know that he was a top, and off they would go. Sometimes it would be quick, sometimes not. When he was really young and even more energetic, he could repeat this process several times a night. What he had now with Bobby was light-years better than that, he knew, but every now and then he missed the thrill of the hunt and capture. 

"So…congratulations on the baby," Jean-Paul said. He noticed that Remy wasn't vacating his seat, and Jean-Paul had felt his cheeks grow ever-so-slightly flushed because of his steamy flashback. He was trying to get his thoughts on another track.

"Merci," Gambit replied, a slight grin on his face. 

"You must be very excited, no? Another little friend for Rory, and Charlotte and Chris."

"Yes. Rogue and I are excited an' proud." Gambit's voice took on a new tone; the mention of Charlotte and Chris had triggered something in his mind. "Hey, Jean-Paul…what's up wit' you an' Cyke and Jean? I 'dought I see some coldness dere when you around dem lately."

__

You can't pull anything past him, Northstar knew. Gambit also, Northstar realized, had to have an idea of the effect he was having on him. Perhaps that was the reason for the saucy grin on his face. Jean-Paul remembered back to the days towards the end of their last mission----when the X-men all had to share one shower area. The clandestine glances he'd taken in Gambit's direction…..ahhh, the view of Gambit all wet and soapy. Northstar forced himself to focus. "We've had our disagreements. Cyke gets on my nerves a lot." Northstar paused. "But what can I say? I owe him."

Gambit nodded. He respected it when people didn't want to reveal every detail. He then rose from his seat. "Is now time for me to go. I got my beautiful wife to go make love to. I hope she still be awake." 

Northstar bit his tongue to keep from saying, 'If she isn't, come back here.' He didn't mean it, of course. Well, only part of him did. Gambit was beyond desirable, no doubt. But Northstar wouldn't break Bobby's heart like that, nor was there any chance that Gambit would do likewise to Rogue.

__

Of course there's no harm in having a fantasy, Jean-Paul mused as he watched Gambit exit the bridge. He briefly considered calling Bobby. If Jean-Paul asked, Bobby would get out of bed and go to the bridge and satisfy his lover. But Jean-Paul loved him and wanted him to get his sleep, undisturbed. When he was sure he was alone, Northstar reached into his pants and pleasured himself, with thoughts of a Cajun on his mind.

****************

Election time had rolled around on An'zhina. The citizens of An'zhina were given three elected representatives. The first (and current) representatives were Erica, Yunfei, and Bailey. Their roles were limited. (Their main duties consisted of holding "town hall meetings" and soliciting feedback from the people on things about An'zhina they would change. They also worked with the Professor, Moira, and Sean on any miscellaneous issues that arose. The three had been the ones to deal with "the Todd situation" and work on a criminal code for An'zhina.) Despite the fact that the representatives had a fairly limited scope of duties, the An'zhinians said they liked having representation. 

Bailey had decided to run for re-election, but Yunfei and Erica wanted to take breaks from governance. Only two others had come forward seeking to become representatives. The first was a man who had been rescued from the FOH camp in Beijing, and his name was Xu Sheng. The other was a rescuee from the X-men's last mission near New York, and his name was Patrick. 

Voters, therefore, were given the chance to approve Bailey, Xu Sheng, and Patrick as their representatives or to write in anyone else.

As for the non-elected leaders---Professor X, Moira, and Banshee---each one wanted to continue providing leadership for An'zhina. They had debated a bit among themselves but had decided to allow An'zhinians the chance to remove any of them from office, if a majority of voters wanted to. ("After all, we are not a dictatorship," Banshee had said. Besides, the three all knew that the chances of a majority of voters wanting to recall any of them was slim to none.) A question was placed on the ballots, allowing voters to indicate whether or not they wished to retain Xavier, Moira, and Sean.

"Well, that was easy," the woman named Megan said, as she approached Xavier, Moira, and Banshee in a conference room the evening of the election. Megan and two others had volunteered to count the ballots. (Or, more accurately, watch a computer as it counted the ballots and do a spot check on the computer's work.) "Congratulations. They voted unanimously to retain all three of you. And there were no write-in votes, so Bailey, Patrick and Xu Sheng are in too."

"That was easy indeed. Perhaps we should have a raucous post-re-election celebration," quipped Banshee. He said it as a jest, but he **was** happy. He found that he quite enjoyed his role in ensuring the smooth running of life on An'zhina. 

"Actually, I do na feel like celebratin'," Moira said. Her serious tone was a marked contrast from that of her husband's. 

"Why not, love?" Banshee asked. 

"I just realized that there are no women representatives. We have three males but no females. So I am the only women out of the six people responsible for governing this place."

"Moira, my darling, is that really a problem?" Sean asked tenderly, as he reached to pat her hand. "An'zhina has only 320 people. It is not as if we are deciding the fate of the universe here."

"I gotta say I agree with her," Megan, who had not left the room, spoke up. "I mean, can you imagine if we had three female reps and no male reps? I don't think the guys would be too thrilled with that." 

"Were there any women interested in running for representative?" the Professor asked. 

"No one at all except Xu Sheng and Patrick expressed any interest in becoming a rep," Sean said, shrugging. He turned to face Moira again. "We canna force people to get involved in government if they are na interested."

"I know that, Sean. But this still doesna sit right with me," Moira said, sadness in her voice. "For the reason that Megan said, mostly."

"It doesn't quite sit right with me either," Xavier said. He stroked his chin. "I don't think we can do anything about this election---especially if no one else wanted to run for office. But let's brainstorm for a bit. What can we do about this in the future---how can we make sure our next group of reps contains some gender mixture?"

The room was quiet for a moment or two. "Well, perhaps next time we can reserve one seat for a woman," Sean suggested. He still didn't agree fully with his wife but was willing to go along with the idea of getting more female leaders. He didn't see the lack of female representatives as a tragedy, but he wouldn't oppose working to solve this either. 

"That's not a bad idea, but it does suggest tokenism," Xavier commented. "And could it be interpreted as not allowing more than one female rep?"

"I have an idea." Moira said. "Perhaps between now and the next election, we can seek out some female leaders. I can think of a few right now. We can talk to them and encourage them to run for representative."

Charles and Sean nodded their support of the idea. Moira turned to Megan. "You, for example, Megan," Moira suggested. "Why did you not run for representative this time?"

Megan shrugged. "I didn't really think about. I don't know. In America, you think of government and you think of corruption. Running for rep never occurred to----"

Megan's voice was cut off by the sound of a loud beeping. "What is that?" she asked.

"It's Queen Marina," Xavier replied. "This is the sound of her priority line." The Queen had told the X-men that she would use this line only when she urgently needed to reach them. The Professor punched a few buttons on a console, and a video screen flickered to life with the image of the Queen looking back at them.

She did not look happy.

"Xavier, our long-range sensors have detected a fleet of eight FOH starships on course straight for An'zhina," Marina began. As always, she never sounded panicked or rushed. But her voice conveyed a grave concern, with a seasoning of anger.

"Eight starships?" Xavier repeated. He did a brief mental scan. Apparently they were not yet in telepathic range, because he could not sense them. The X-men, he knew, were also out of telepathic range now.

"They have their shields up and all of their weapons powered up. They mean to avenge the deaths of those that Psylocke and Marrow killed. They plan to attack An'zhina!"

"Queen Marina….you have faced FOH starships before," the Professor began, struggling for the right words. He wanted to ensure that he sounded confident, soothing, and supportive, and not condescending. "When you first rescued us from an FOH ship years ago, you were able to propel the ship outside of FOH territory. Whatever your source of power is, it is far beyond anything on earth."

"I know that, Xavier," Marina replied. Charles speculated that perhaps he had failed in his attempt to sound non-condescending. "But that was with one vessel---not **eight**. And secondly, that is not the biggest issue here. My people are panicking over this."

"Is there anything I—or anyone else on An'zhina---can do to assist you?"

"Not now. We must first try to turn away these ships. The long-term impacts on Endaria---of a fleet of earth starships launching an attack on us---will be dealt with once we have resolved this crisis."

"If you need the assistance of my telepathic powers----" the Professor began, but the screen went blank. Marina had "hung up" on him.

"Now what?" Megan asked, looking from the face of the Professor, to Banshee, to Moira. "Are we in danger now? Can we do anything?"

"Stay calm, Megan," Moira said softly. "I dona think there is anything that we can do."

"I believe that we will be alright," Xavier said. "Unless FOH has developed some amazing new technologies in a very short amount of time, Marina should easily have the power to defeat them. When we X-men first came to Endaria, we were almost overtaken by an FOH vessel called the Protector. Marina came to our aid and, in a matter of seconds, she did something that propelled the Protector across the galaxy. She said that she sent it back to earth. We never heard from it again." He paused for emphasis. "With that kind of technology at their fingertips, I can't see that the Endarians are in any real danger."

"But can we be sure?" Banshee asked. "Marina said that there are now **eight** starships heading this way."

"I would still imagine that she can deal with them."

"She did sound concerned about them," Moira began, "but she sounded far more concerned with the reactions of her people."

"I think," Charles began, "in the long-run that the reactions of the Endarians might prove more dangerous to us than the FOH fleet."

****************

That evening turned into a late night session, as An'zhina's leadership found it to difficult to simply go off to sleep. The three X-men leaders were joined by the An'zhinian reps (including both the existing reps and the newly elected but yet-to-be-sworn-in reps). They sat near the video screen and drank coffee as they waited for any word from Marina.

Xavier told the others when he was able to sense the FOH fleet telepathically. To no one's surprise, he sensed that they wanted revenge for the destruction of the three starships that the Pirates totaled. They attributed that to, of course, the X-men. FOH had some knowledge that the X-men were being sheltered by an advanced civilization, and FOH wanted a piece of them as well. Their main goal, though, was to get at the X-men.

The X-men leadership decided not to share this information with the citizens of An'zhina, at this time. It had the potential to cause widespread panic. If Xavier was right and they didn't have anything to worry about now, there was no logical reason to inform the others. If the situation changed, then they would—of course---make the An'zhinians aware of what was happening.

"I wish we had some way to warn the X-men on Freedom," Banshee murmured.

"They should be alright," the Professor said. "Their vessel is cloaked. The course they set, towards that planet, should take them far away from An'zhina, so I doubt that they are in the way of the FOH fleet. And Jean will be able to sense it if the FOH ships are, somehow, near their position in space."

"But the cloaking device should protect them," Bailey said. "Right?"

"That is correct," the Professor answered, even though he had just stated words to that effect. "Unless, somehow, FOH have developed the means to detect a cloaked ship. They did it once before," Xavier added. "But let's not worry needlessly. I'm confident that the X-men will be fine, between their cloaking device and Jean's telepathic powers."

"I'm more worried about us," Yunfei said. "What if they get through the Endarian's defenses? What if Marina kicks us out?"

It was a tense several hours for the X-men, especially for Xavier. He was faced with the task of consoling and reassuring the others while hoping for the best himself. `I must also,' he told himself, 'prepare for the worst in cast things do not turn out as we wish.'

****************

The following day, Queen Marina contacted Professor Xavier.

"Our defense technology was adequate," she began. "We were able to repel all eight ships in the fleet back towards earth." Marina sounded tired, but calm and steady as she usually was, too.

"Were any Endarians harmed during this?" Xavier asked.

"No."

"What about the crews of the FOH ships? Would they have been harmed in the process?" 

"Unlikely. The starships almost certainly suffered hull and engine damage, but the crews of the ships were very unlikely to have incurred any harm."

"So is it safe to say that the immediate danger is passed?" the Professor asked.

"It is, indeed, safe to say that, Charles. The Friends of Humanity presented us with no new weapons or technology. Should they send more vessels this way, our defense should be able to again repel them successfully."

The Professor nodded. He was able to sense, too, that Marina was not at all surprised about this outcome. She had known that the chances of her defense systems failing were slim. Charles had known that too.

Charles also knew, though, what the Queen knew---her biggest challenge lay ahead. "I am meeting with my Executive Council later today. They have called an emergency session."

Charles nodded. "What do you expect might occur at this meeting?"

"The Council will discuss this unprecedented attack on Endaria. There are several possible proposals and outcomes." Marina listed the possible conclusions calmly. "They might do nothing for now until FOH sends more ships. Or they might begin steps to remove me from power, or they might ask me to step down from my position. They might convince me that, in order to remain in power, I must remove the earthlings from An'zhina. All of these options are at least conceivable."

Xavier nodded, hoping that his nervousness regarding the situation was not transparent. "Which scenario do you think is the most likely?"

Marina took a breath. "It is unlikely that they will simply do nothing. The Council has brought this matter up before and had been angered before by the mere **presence** of FOH starships in our space. One of which, I might add, was blown up by one of your own members," she said, referencing the time that Psylocke –an X-man at the time---had acted against orders. "Now that an entire fleet of eight starships attempted to attack our world, it is another matter entirely. Besides, the Endarian people themselves are worried. We must respond to the needs of our people."

"Do you think that the Council will attempt to remove you from power?"

"I think that they would not attempt to do so at this time. That is quite a drastic response and quite unprecedented. Of course," she added, "so is the FOH attempted attack. So it is not completely out of the realm of possibility either."

The Queen did not tell Xavier about another reason as to why she felt her position as ruler remained relatively safe --- for now, at least. Her successor, her younger brother Tavrock, was not popular with the Endarian people. He did not have any supporters who wanted to see him on the Endarian throne.

Marina did have a son who was seven years old, and he was the heir apparent. His name was Kotarin. However, the constitution dictated that should Marina leave the throne before her child reached the age of 20, the throne would pass to the next in line (assuming that the person next in line was old enough). So Tavrok was the next in line until Kotarin turned 20. 

Marina's only sibling had no desire for either work or leadership. As the Endarian people knew, Tavrok preferred to spend his days enjoying the finer things in life---beautiful women, food, drink, music, and unlimited leisure. If Marina were to resign her position or be removed from power, the constitution required that Tavrok be named Endaria's next regent. 

The Executive Council wouldn't completely mind if Tavrok were to become Endaria's next ruler though----given what they knew of him and his approach to work, it was likely that the Council's power would increase. Tavrok would almost certainly take a hands-off approach and allow the Council to run the show. However, Tavrok was not popular with the Endarian people, and the people's opinions carried enormous weight. If he wanted to, Tavrok could refuse the throne. It would be a shocking and unprecedented refusal, but it was a possibility. The throne of Endaria would then pass to Tavrok's and Marina's Aunt, Deleina. Deleina was a commonsense, pragmatic leader who was well-regarded by the Endarian people. She was also a xenophobe who made no bones about wanting the X-men gone from Endarian space.

__

Enough of this speculation, Marina told herself. _I am holding onto this throne whether I have to fight tooth and nail for it. And neither my idiot brother nor my Aunt will succeed me. I will be succeeded only by a child of mine._

Marina looked down towards her midsection and reflexively placed a protective had over it. She loved her son Kotarin, of course. But she had to admit that she truly hoped she would instead be someday succeeded by child she carried now, the one sired by Scott Summers. 

"Please keep me posted," Xavier said, oblivious to the thoughts swirling around Marina's mind. "Let me know what happens at the Council meeting."

"Of course," Marina replied. 

**************

We reached the planet. We were in orbit with it, cloaked of course. Cyclops called a meeting for all of us X-men.

"I believe that the first order of business is for us to run scans of the surface," he said. "We need to attempt to locate the shuttle. Our sensors were weakened last time because we were operating on a shoestring of dilithium. Now that we have more, we can use our maximum sensor array and hope that it can locate the shuttle."

"What will the course of action be should we find ourselves unable to locate the shuttle using sensors?" Hank asked. "Would we then beam down a search party?"

"That is an option. But I would hope we can avoid that."

  
"Last time we were down there, we had that run-in with that powerful sorcerer guy," Rogue said.

"Dagron," Jean added, supplying the name.

"That experience with him was freakin' weird. I ain't one to shy away from a conflict, but I hope we can avoid dealin' with him."

"I agree," Cyclops said. "So let's see what our sensors can do, first. For all we know, our paths won't cross with him at all. This planet has a few million people on it. He might be totally out of the picture."

"If the shuttle's been dismantled, we probably ain't gonna be able to find it," Wolverine said. 

I looked over at him. It was interesting hearing his actual voice. Usually the only time I heard it—or saw him---was during karate lessons. I'd been even a little surprised when I saw him show up for this meeting, but I guess since he was a field commander, he had no choice.

"That's a good point," Cyclops said. He then added, "But this culture---from what we can tell---is not technologically advanced. So we might still be able to pick up readings on some of the shuttle parts."

So that was it for the meeting. We waited as Freedom approached this planet. I wondered what we would find.

*****************

Not long after that meeting, I found myself called into another one. I sat with the rest of Freedom's crew around a table. Everyone was present, except for Cannonball, who had been called to bridge duty.

"We have a problem," Cyclops stated. I saw him exchange a few looks with Hank, Rogue, and Wolverine. "Our sensors **are** able to pick up on an area where we detect our shuttle."

"That's supposed to be good," Jubilee said. "Right?"

"The problem is that we've also detected indications of technology that mirror the technology of the shuttle."

"It is as if there is now more than one such shuttle on the planet's surface," Hank explained.

"I thought that they did not have that kind of technology," Nightcrawler said.

"They didn't. None of the scans we ran earlier indicated that this planet had any sort of warp capability. At all."

"So dey got deir hands on our shuttle and started copyin' it?" Gambit asked.

"That might indeed be the case," Hank answered. "That is the most likely conclusion we can reach, given the information we have now. If that is the case, it is most unfortunate."

"So what do we do?" Jeanne-Marie asked.

Cyclops again looked at Rogue, Hank, and Wolverine. I don't know if maybe I was reading too much into it, but he seemed a bit unsure. In the past, I don't recall too many times when he'd hesitate with any leadership decisions or anything like that. In the old **old** days, he'd give orders and we'd follow. (Except for me, at times like when I was being obnoxious and trying to rebel.) But he did look unsure today. 

I tried to look at him with compassion. I mean, Jean-Paul disliked him quite a bit and I sure wasn't thrilled with the comments he'd made in the rec room that time. But, as I reminded myself every day, Cyclops did save Jean-Paul's life—and he did so at the cost of a tremendous sacrifice to himself and his family. And ever since then, he had looked unsure of himself at times. I really tried to see things from his perspective, as much as I disliked Scott at times.

"I think we need to send an away team to the planet's surface," Cyclops said.

"That is quite risky," Jean-Paul said. "Last time we did that, remember what happened? That Dagron man put Rogue and Gambit under a sp---" He stopped in mid-sentence and looked towards the couple. "What exactly **did** he do?"  


"We don't really know, sugar," Rogue said. "Maybe we **were** under some kinda spell. It was real weird."

"At the very least, I think it's safe to say he has some sort of telepathic powers," Jean said. "Perhaps I should be on this away mission."

Jeanne-Marie spoke. I turned towards her and she was looking a bit worried. "Wait a minute. Are we sure we want to do this? Why are we even considering a trip to the planet's surface? I mean, for one thing----we're doing a lot of speculating here. We do not know that they've taken our shuttle and found a way to copy it. And if they have, it truly is unfortunate if we've messed things up on their planet. But does it really matter to us?"

"And we must consider the possibility that beaming down might cause perhaps even more harm," Nightcrawler stated.

Jubilee nodded. "If they did find a way to build more shuttles, I don't see how we can stop it without doing more interference."

Jeanne-Marie piped up again, nearly before Jubilee was done speaking. "And we shouldn't put ourselves in more danger."

I turned towards Cyclops and saw him taking a breath. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts. "I hear what you're saying," he said. "I believe that we need to, at the very least, see what we've done. We need to get down there and take a look. Maybe there will be some way we can reverse whatever it is we might've caused."

"I agree," Wolverine said, crossing his arms over his chest. He sat with Cyke and the other field commanders. I scanned them and guessed that they were all in accord with each other. Maybe that was why it had taken them so long to call the team together again----their scans of the planet couldn't have taken so long. Maybe they had debated and discussed it among the four of them and had agreed upon a decision. 

They still had to convince the rest of us though.

Wolverine continued, "We gotta get down there and see what's goin' on. It doesn't haveta be a long mission."

"But we gotta at least see what's goin on," Rogue added. "Maybe we can't fix anythin', but we gotta look. And if we git trouble, we can beam back up."

"There still exists the possibility that our scans are incorrect," Hank added. "The technology required to build a shuttle craft is quite advanced. Many of you remember when we were stranded on the Paradise Planet and had to repair our engines. It took a team of four people seven months to repair the engines, and we possessed advanced knowledge and skills. This culture has given no indication of any level of advanced technology. Perhaps were are receiving a false reading, or are reading too much into what the data indicated. Maybe they are not developing warp-capable vessels of their own." He paused, "But irregardless of that, I believe also that the best course of action is to beam down and investigate."

Jean Grey then added, "I agree with what Hank said. Look, we chose to beam down there and **take** dilithium from them. It was a desperate act….and we truly were desperate." She paused briefly. "But if I could look back and try to be as objective as possible…what we did was not – not a fair thing, for lack of a better term. What we did wasn't quite fair to the people of the planet. The very least we can do is get down there and observe what harm we might have caused. Who knows---maybe we can easily reverse it."

The room was quiet for a few quick moments. Then Jeanne-Marie crossed her arms over her chest and said, "I still don't see why we care. How much harm could we have possibly have done to the people on that planet? We took a resource that they are not using, we came into contact with only one person, and we left right away. I thought our number one priority was to get back to earth and help the mutants there. Our people on earth are being tortured and they are dying." Her voice had been rising steadily. It looked like she forced herself to take a breath and calm down. "This seems like such a detour. It seems almost pointless."

Again, there was silence for a moment or two. People seemed to be mulling it over. Nightcrawler then spoke up, "I am trying to view this from both angles, and trying to see what truly might be the moral thing to do. And although I believe that there is the chance that we could do even more harm to the people ---and the natural destiny---of this planet if we beam down, I must agree with what Jean said. Let us at least take a look. We can be as unobtrusive as possible."

"What does everyone else think?" Cyclops asked. 

We went around the room giving our opinions, one by one. I can't say why, but I had gotten the idea that maybe more than one person had silently agreed with Jeanne-Marie. Or maybe **I** partly felt that way. Part of me really agreed with her. But I don't know if it was "group think" or what, but the first few people who responded said that they agreed with the idea of beaming down. Then everyone said they agreed --- everyone except Jeanne-Marie. She shot her brother a dirty look when he went with the majority, and I sensed there would be a tempestuous argument between the twins later on. It was an argument that I didn't care to be part of. 

"Since we have agreement," Cyclops was saying, "we next need to select our away-team. I think a minimal team would be best. Three X-men---or four, maximum."

"I volunteer," Nightcrawler said. "I think my teleporting will be useful again. The distance to the surface is too far for me to teleport, but we can do as we did last time." What we did last time was for those of us on the away team to get inside a shuttle, get close enough for Kurt to teleport, and then be teleported---shuttle and all---down. "Except, this time perhaps I can teleport only us---and not the shuttle. Last time, we needed to bring up stores of dilithium, but this time we do not need to, so we should not need a shuttle."

"That makes sense," Cyclops said, just as Wolverine almost simultaneously volunteered for the mission. "I'll go," Wolverine said. Cyclops nodded at Wolverine's brief words. 

"I would like to go as well," Jean said. "I think my telepathy might be necessary. It will be helpful if I can scan for other minds. And if, for some reason, we do encounter that Dagron guy, maybe I can get inside his head and figure out what's going on."

"It did appear as though Dagron had some sort of telepathic powers," Hank said. "A telepath could be a powerful asset for us on this mission."

Cyclops didn't look all that thrilled at the idea of Jean going, but he also looked like he could deal with it. I think he couldn't argue with the logic of her going; it just made too much sense. I bet he struggled all the time to separate his feelings for her from doing what might be best for the team. I didn't envy him that. Anyway, Cyclops nodded in Jean's direction; apparently, he acquiesced to her being on the away team.

"I'll go too," Rogue said. "If we run into any trouble, you bet I can handle it. I'm a one-woman army," she added, with a bit of bravado, I thought. 

"You sure dat beamin' down is a good idea for you, Rogue?" Gambit asked quietly. His voice was low but very….serious. There was an undercurrent to it; Gambit had the ability to make a few words "say" a lot. And my ears perked up when I realized that I couldn't remember him addressing her as "Rogue" too often. Seems every time I'd heard him address her, he called her "chere."

Rogue looked at him. She didn't look pleased. "Of course it's a good idea," she said, sounding a tad defensive.

"You got someone else to consider 'dough."

"Remy, I'm **pregnant**. I'm not immobile. I can handle this." There was an edge to Rogue's voice, one that she wasn't trying to squelch, at least as far as I could tell.

"I never said dat you were immobile, chere. But do you really gotta go on dis mission? Maybe you oughtta take it easy till the baby's born."

"Take it easy? What am I supposed to do, lay on the bed for the next eight months?? I'm **invulnerable**, Remy! I can go on this mission."

"I'd prefer dat you didn't, chere."

"You're bein' real unreasonable."

"An' you're takin' risks dat you don't need to."

Like many other people in that room, I suspect, I started to fervently wish that I was elsewhere. Watching Rogue and Gambit argue was not pleasant. I snuck a look at Cyclops. He looked as if he didn't know quite what to do. 

"An' you're bein' way too overprotective," Rogue said. As far as I could tell, she and Gambit acted oblivious to the presence of the rest of us.

Wolverine then spoke. Firmly. "Gambit, back off. If she wants to go on this mission, she's the one to decide it. Besides, she's right. She can handle trouble better than most of us. She's one of the best fighters we got."

"Dis ain't any of your concern, mon ami," Gambit said, apparently directed towards Wolverine but he continued to look at Rogue. Rogue broke off eye contact with her husband, and looked at Wolverine and Cyclops. She spoke as if Gambit had not made his comment. "So that's it, then. Me, Nightcrawler, Jean, and Wolverine," Rogue said decisively. 

The decision was made, and the shuttle bay was re-pressurized in preparation for the mission. 

*************

Rogue walked swiftly towards the shuttle bay. Wolverine, Jean, and Nightcrawler followed behind her. They then stood outside the door of the shuttle bay, waiting as it continued to re-pressurize. 

__

What is his deal?? Rogue asked herself. _Is he gonna be that way for the next eight months? Is he gonna be like that **forever**?? I don't wanna be treated like your Grandma's heirloom vase. I thought he **liked** me bein' such a tough-ass. _Her mind chilled at the thought of things changing in her relationship with her husband. She liked things the way they were. 

Rogue then mentally stopped herself and halted the train that her mind was taking. _Gotta put this stuff outta my mind --- till after the mission. _She'd learned that mental discipline both from her training as an X-man, as well as from the training she'd done earlier in Mystique's group. Whatever personal problems the X-men had, the mission always came first, She knew she had to focus on her duty, and forced herself to do so.

Soon, the shuttle bay was ready for the X-men to enter. They silently boarded it.

"We're goin' down," Wolverine said, over the communicator, to the X-men on the bridge. He expertly guided the shuttle from the bay and away from Freedom. 

The four X-men plunged into space. Jean sat in one of the passenger seats, strapped in. She tilted her head to look out a window. The vastness of space surrounded them, a flurry of blackness punctuated with glistening stars. The shuttle seemed so small now; it seemed to be swimming in this endlessness. Jean felt a pang of sorrow. She had not kissed her children goodbye.

__

There was no need to, she told herself. We'll be back on the ship soon. _It doesn't make sense to worry them needlessly. Especially Charlotte._

"How're you doing?" Cyclops's voice came over the communicator.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jean saw Wolverine make a face. He promptly replaced it with his usual look.

"No change in our status," Nightcrawler said into the communicator. "I will let you know when I think we are close enough to teleport down."

"We're pickin' up some more detailed readin's from the planet surface," Rogue said, looking at her monitor. "Looks like there's a forested area not too far from the shuttle readin's. Think you can teleport us down there?"

"Yeah, we wanna avoid teleportin' down in front of any people," Wolverine added. 

"I will do the best I can to get us in the forest," Kurt said. 

After just a few more minutes, Nightcrawler pressed a some buttons and the shuttle ceased its descent towards the surface, holding its position in space. The four X-men stood up. Wolverine, Rogue, and Jean all made physical contact with Nightcrawler.

"Ready? Here we go," Kurt said, moments before teleporting to the surface.

The four X-men resurfaced in a thickly wooded area. Cyclops again spoke over the communicator, this time his voice just a few levels above a whisper.

"Your status, team?"

"We made it," Rogue said, returning his quiet tone. "We're in the forest."

"Any sign of the shuttle? Or shuttles?"

"No," Jean said. "We'll let you know as soon as we have something to report. Scott, I might contact you telepathically in case we end up in a position where there might be people around to overhear."

"Good enough. Do you think anyone saw you teleport in?"

Wolverine had been sniffing the air. "No," he said. "No people 'round here. A lot of animals though."

"My tricorder's pickin' up some readings," Rogue said. "I think we can tell which way the shuttle is."

With that, the away team temporarily ceased communication with Freedom, and headed off in the direction of the tricorder readings. Despite Wolverine's assurance that no other people were in the vicinity, they still employed caution as they stealthily moved towards the possible shuttle readings. The team desperately wanted to avoid further interference, and contact with any of the humanoids on the surface would not do them any good. 

They continued walking. Wolverine enjoyed, as he had the first time he'd spent on the planet's surface, the experience his senses were having. New scents drifted through the air. Sounds of unfamiliar birds could be heard in the distance. His perceptive vision allowed him to detect shadowy lines of animals lurking nearby, afraid to get nearer to the four strangers. His longing for adventure and freedom also meant that he didn't mind the uncertainty that might lay ahead for the X-men on this mission. 

He sniffed the air again. "We're gettin' close," he said. "I smell people."

"I can sense them too," Jean added. "I can sense quite a few minds----dozens, in fact."

"Up this way," Wolverine said, pointing. 

"The trees seem to be thinning ahead too," Rogue whispered.   


"I think we're near the end of the forest," Nightcrawler added. 

After briefly (and very quietly) updating Cyclops, the X-men continued on with the utmost caution. The forestry indeed started to grow more sparse. Sounds could be heard in the distance. 

"Let's hang back here," Wolverine said. 

Rogue looked at Wolverine and nodded, as she realized that they had never specified who was in charge of this away mission----her or Wolverine. They were both field commanders, considered equal in ranking in the X-men's loosely-applied hierarchy. It was not as if Rogue had an inflated ego or wanted to throw her weight around, but she partly wished for more clarity on the question of who was leading this mission. Should a crisis situation somehow arise, who would be giving the orders?

Rogue's ears perked up. She thought she heard someone whisper, but looking around at her three colleagues, she saw that no one had spoken. She felt as if she heard **something** scurrying around the vicinity of her mind, but she brushed the notion away. Besides, over the years she still heard occasional remnants of those who she had absorbed at one time or another. Unexplainable whispers weren't something new for her. Rogue shook her head and focussed her attention on the scene before them. 

While hiding behind the cover of the trees, the X-men attempted to apprise the situation before them. A large man-made structure loomed ahead. It looked something akin to a castle, but unlike any castle on earth. It did have large, round towers and appeared to be made of stone, but the architecture on the building was clearly….foreign. Or even alien. The architecture sloped at odd angles, in an unpredictable pattern. The color of the stone-like surface was unlike anything normally seen on earth. It shimmered in iridescent shades of gold and deep red. It seemed to be surrounded by some sort of clouds or mists, although if the X-men were to look above, they would see no clouds in the sky.

"I'm giving Scott---and the others---a telepathic update," Jean whispered.

The front of the castle-like structure, however, provided the most interest to the X-men. Several people milled about in front of the edifice. They were doing some sort of manual labor. They appeared to be working diligently and possibly appeared to be constructing something.

"Can you see what they're workin' on?" Rogue whispered to Wolverine. The X-men were a bit too far way from the action to have a good look, but she knew Wolverine had the best eyesight. 

Rogue again felt as if she'd experienced a fleeting mental caress, as if someone were speaking into her mind but she could not understand the words. Fleetingly she wondered whether Jean could've accidentally been sending any communications her way. She braced herself when she heard it again, this time more insistent.

"Uh-huh. I can smell it too. They're tryin' to make more shuttles." Wolverine's nose picked up on the various metals used to construct the hull.

Jean took a deep breath as she digested that information. "Just what we feared," she breathed. The X-men didn't have all the facts now, obviously, but from what they could see it appeared as though someone (or someones) with some degree of wealth and power (as evidenced by the castle) had a group of people working on attempting to copy the shuttle. How long before this group of people would be careening through space? The weight of the possible ramifications of the X-men's action pressed against her heart. 

As Jean spoke, Rogue silently began to remove her gloves. Despite having gained mastery of her powers, she wore the gloves out of habit whenever she appeared in uniform. She subtly discarded them both.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nightcrawler saw Rogue's removal of the gloves. And then he saw something that shocked him. Rogue was getting ready to attack. 

Rogue leapt towards Jean. 

Quick as a wink, Nightcrawler stepped in front of Jean. She punched him. The force of Rogue's herculean strength knocked him over. Her bare fist had made contact with his face, and Rogue absorbed Nightcrawler's powers.

"What the fuck's goin' on?" Wolverine bellowed. Nightcrawler stayed down; Rogue's attack temporarily disabled him. 

"It's Dagron!" Jean shouted, stunned. "He's got control of Rogue's mind!" A quick mental scan of Rogue revealed that a powerful foreign mind, the one whom the X-men had encountered before, was now in charge of Rogue. Jean then set about the task of countering Dagron's presence inside Rogue.

Wolverine lunged towards Rogue, in an attempt to restrain her, but Rogue used the teleportation power that she had absorbed from Nightcrawler and she disappeared.

"Where is she?" Jean asked.

"What's going on??" Cyclops's voice was heard over the communicator.

Jean opened her mouth to reply to her husband, but thought better of it. She had to focus her efforts on getting inside Rogue's head, and she knew Rogue couldn't be far. But Jean wasn't able to make any progress. Within a split second's time, Rogue reappeared behind Jean. She struck a blow to the back of Jean's head, and Jean fell to the ground.

"Jeanie!" Wolverine shouted. In the distance, he heard the sounds of people approaching. But he had no time for dealing with that---he had to tend to Jean, which first meant getting Rogue to stop her rampage. 

"Get over here!" he yelled at her. Rogue turned as if to square off against Wolverine, but then teleported away. 

She re-materialized behind him, in a perfect position to strike a blow against him. Wolverine spent a second or two recovering from the hit, before he unsheathed his claws. "Don't make me use these on you!" 

"Should we send another shuttle down?" Cyclops's voice was heard over someone's communicator. Other X-men's voices, confused and slightly panicked, could be heard in the background, but neither Rogue nor Wolverine was listening.

Dagron and several men appeared on the scene of the fight. His men promptly scooped up the unconscious Jean Grey. "Should we take the blue one too?" one of them asked. 

"Just the telepath for now," replied Dagron, a vision in regal dark blue robes. He spoke with a most commanding voice. "She's the one I need."

Wolverine saw this attempted capture out of the corner of his eye. "Get away from her!" he hissed, turning from his aborted counter-attack on Rogue. He started to attack the men, but Rogue pounced on him. 

Rogue seemed as if out for blood. Faced with having to fend off Rogue's assault, Wolverine was unable to prevent Dagron and his forces from abducting Jean. They hastily retreated back towards the castle, as Wolverine and Rogue continued their scuffle. "Sir, I think we should return for the others," one of the men could be heard saying.

Meanwhile, Kurt was slowly regaining consciousness and rubbing his head. Rogue's power was undeniable. She was an incredible force of nature. The dazed monk tried to make sense of what had occurred and what he saw occurring in front of him.

Rogue versus Wolverine presented quite a spectacle. Her nearly-invincible strength and absorption power against his healing factor and claws. His claws were popped out and poised to attack. Rogue managed to dodge his every move, occasionally using teleportation. When the two came to blows, it was a frightening sight. Nightcrawler didn't know if Wolverine's adamantium would be able to cut Rogue, but she appeared afraid of the claws. Wolverine was also possibly a more-skilled fighter, but she undeniably had him on strength. Kurt saw that Rogue was, so far, managing to evade those claws and strike several blows against Logan. His healing factor seemed to be keeping up with the damage. 

Nightcrawler did not want to lay around and analyze the fight, however. Through a haze, he saw in the distance more men approaching them. He noted that Jean was gone, and wondered if her captors were returning. Returning for more X-men, possibly.

He struggled to his feet. Grasping a tree to assist him, Kurt managed to stand. His head was spinning and he saw stars, but he was managing. Wolverine and Rogue were so engrossed in their battle, it did not appear that they noticed the approach of Dagron's men. Nightcrawler didn't know what was wrong with Rogue's mind but he knew that they needed to regroup. They had to get out of here before Dagron returned. 

Kurt mustered his meager strength to teleport away, and he reappeared a mere second later. Rogue had tackled Wolverine to the ground and was using her massive strength to hold his wrists (and, therefore, his claws) away. Nightcrawler made physical contact with both of them and, with them, teleported back to the shuttle.

*****************

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net 


	15. Chapter 15

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

*****************

"What the hell is goin' on??" Gambit asked. 

I wasn't sure who specifically his question was targeted to. All we knew was that we had clue what was happening on the planet's surface. We'd lost contact with the away team, and no one was in telepathic contact with Jean. We'd heard snippets of sentences, like 'It's Dagron!" and 'Get away from her!' That was about it. 

So we stood around the bridge, looking at each other and fearing. "If we don't hear from dem in another minute, I'm takin' a shuttle down there," Gambit said. I'd kind of thought Cyke might say something along the lines of, 'Let's not be irrational.' But he said nothing and looked confused and worried, like the rest of us. 

Several more awkward seconds ticked by. Finally, we heard something over the communicator. "Shuttle to Freedom." It was Wolverine! 

"Wolverine, what's happening?" Scott asked. "Where's Jean??"

"Dagron's got her."

"What???"

"Calm down, Cyke."

"Wolverine, are Rogue and Nightcrawler with you?" Hank asked.

"Yeah. I'm settin' the shuttle to return to the ship now."

"Please let us know what you encountered on the planet," Hank implored. He wanted, I knew, to hear what had happened in chronological order so that he could make sense of it all. 

So Wolverine explained to us what had happened. "I think Dagron got a hold of Rogue's mind somehow. She attacked us. She's unconscious now."

"Did you hurt her?" Gambit asked. 

"No. Not anythin' she can't handle. But once Kurt teleported us back to the shuttle, she fainted. She blacked out."

I looked at Cyke and noticed he still seemed to be having trouble comprehending what we hadn't seen on the planet's surface. "But what happened to Jean?? Tell us, step by step, what happened."

"Rogue attacked us and absorbed Kurt's teleportation. She knocked him out and teleported to Jean. She knocked Jean out after Jean was tellin' us that it was Dagron controlling Rogue. Then Rogue attacked me. I couldn't stop Dagron's men from taking Jean---I was trying to stop Rogue from killing me. She and I fought, Kurt regained consciousness, and he teleported us to the shuttle. We gotta regroup before we rescue Jean."

I think this was the most consecutive sentences I'd ever heard from Wolverine. It was at least the most I'd heard him say since Storm left. 

"So we have wounded. I will proceed to sick bay right away," Hank said. 

"Me too," Shaman said. "Hector, please accompany us."

"Of course."

Hank, Shaman, and Hector left the bridge. I looked at Cyclops. I couldn't tell if he was shocked or angry or just stunned. 

***************

Not long afterwards, most X-men found themselves in sick bay, keeping a respectful distance from those who were at work. Hector tended to Nightcrawler. He had sustained some nasty head and neck injuries, but nothing that Shaman said he could not recover from. Kurt sat up in bed, looking a little stunned but more or less alright. "Once Shaman lays his hands on you, you gonna be fine," Hector said to him.

Gambit stood next to Rogue's bed. "I do not know what has occurred," Hank said, alternating between looking at Rogue and at several monitors. "According to the monitors, it is as if she is in some type of coma. Wolverine, you are certain that you did not strike a blow to her head --- or anything similar?"

Gambit's eyes flashed ominously as he looked at Wolverine. "I didn't," Wolverine said. "Right before Kurt beamed us back, she had me pinned to the ground. She held my wrists back. Before that we hit each other a lot durin' our fight, but I didn't do anything that knocked her out."

"Obviously not or she could not have been pinning you down."

"When did she loose consciousness den?" Gambit asked. 

"As soon as we got teleported back to the shuttle. She lost consciousness right when we reappeared on the shuttle," Wolverine said.

"So what we gonna do?" Gambit asked. The anger had dissipated from his voice. It looked like whatever had happened on the planet's surface was not Wolverine's fault, and he understood that he couldn't blame his friend for Rogue's condition. Instead they had to focus on getting her to regain consciousness, on helping her get better. "How we gonna get Rogue outta dis…coma, if dat's what dis is."

"I do not know," Hank said. He looked at Wolverine. "You said that Jean said that Dagron had control of Rogue's mind, correct?"

"Yeah." Wolverine's monosyllabic answer sounded more typical of his style, and he certainly preferred it to the long explanations he'd been forced to give. 

"Obviously he doesn't still have it, or Rogue wouldn't be unconscious now," Cyclops said. He was fighting to maintain calmness and assert his leadership here. But the thought of Jean being captured was sending frantic shock waves throughout his entire system. Maintaining composure was an intense struggle.

"So what the hell's he want with Jean?" Wolverine muttered. 

"What's the deal wit' Rogue den? Why ain't Dagron in control of her now?" Gambit asked. 

"Could he still be?" Shaman asked. "Perhaps he is somehow monitoring us through Rogue."

"I wish we had Jean!" Jubilee said. She was standing near the doorway with a cluster of X-men who were listening to the discussion around the unconscious Rogue. Jubilee and the others were trying to maintain a respectful distance so Hank could work, but they still wanted to be involved in the discussion. "She would know what's going on."

As Gambit nodded his agreement with Jubilee's words, Hank replied to Shaman's idea. He checked his monitors again. "I suppose it is not inconceivable that Dagron might be monitoring us through Rogue, but it is unlikely. All the signs indicate that she is in a coma-like state."

"Telepathy might not show up on our equipment though," Cyclops said. "We have to play it safe. I want someone assigned to monitoring Rogue at all times. And let's continue this discussion in one of the conference rooms!"

Gambit looked at Hank, and then gestured towards Rogue. Hank followed his gaze; it was in the direction of Rogue's midsection. "What about….?" Gambit began.

"Do not worry, Remy," Hank said. "As far as I can determine, the fetus was not harmed during the fight and does not appear to be harmed by Rogue's state."

"How can you be sure, mon ami?"

"I performed a blood test to check her hormone levels. Additionally, I examined her and found no blood stains or discharge. I am confident that the fetus is unharmed." 

Gambit breathed a sigh of relief.

Less than a minute later, most of the X-men were reassembled in a conference room. Hank, Shaman, and Hector remained in the infirmary—charged with monitoring Rogue. Cannonball remained on bridge duty.

"It is obvious that this mission was a mistake!" Jeanne-Marie said, the minute everyone was seated. "We have one X-man captured and another unconscious. And it sounds like we did not learn anything else that we hadn't before!"

Cyclops ignored her. He fought to maintain some control over the proceedings. "Let's continue on about Dagron's powers. We've got to figure out what did he did to Rogue and why he captured Jean."

"I have been pondering the question of Dagron's control over Rogue's mind, and the explanation for her unconsciousness. Perhaps Rogue lost consciousness when she lost **proximity** to Dagron," Hank said, his voice coming in over the communicator. "Maybe she is physically too far away for him to maintain control. Perhaps once she was taken such a great distance from him, his control over her mind ended and she, therefore, lost consciousness."

"Telepathy does appear to have physical limits. We've even seen it with Jean and the Professor's powers," Cyclops said.

"If 'telepathy' accurately even describes what Dagron has," Bobby added, happy to contribute to the discussion.

"I think we gotta get Dagron for us to really know what's goin' on with Rogue," Wolverine said.

"An' we gotta get Jean back too. We gotta take another mission to the planet," Gambit said. And he couldn't wait to get his hands on Dagron.

"Before we rush into going there again," Northstar began, his voice with an edge to it, "let's think it through some more. You got your asses kicked down there. We don't want that to happen again. What's to stop Dagron from taking control of **all** of your minds this time?"

Northstar's question sparked something in Gambit. "Why did he only take control of Rogue dis time? Why **didn't** he take everyone?" Gambit asked. 

"That is a very good question," Hank remarked, his voice again coming through over the intercom. "If Dagron wanted to kidnap Jean, why did he not commandeer **her** mind instead of Rogue's? Alternately, why did he not take control of all your minds?

Gambit gasped. "Maybe it's got somet'in' to do wit' our first encounter wit' him. Dat time dat he had me an' Rogue in some sorta….trance."

"What do you mean, Gambit?" Cyclops asked. Part of him wanted to immediately storm down to the planet's surface and rescue Jean. But he knew that they had to plan the rescue mission well for it to have any chance of succeeding, and he knew that meant spending time doing speculating and guessing. As desperate as he was to rescue his wife, he understood this. He also looked at Gambit and guessed that the Cajun understood it as well—if they were to get Rogue out of the coma, they had to figure out what was going on with Dagron.

"Dat first time we were on the planet, he had control of Rogue's and my mind. Maybe he found…..some way back into our minds. Once Rogue got close enough to him dis time, he was able to get back in and take control again."

A German-accented voice was heard over the intercom. "Yes, I remember. He said---"

"Kurt, you should be resting," Wraith said, cutting him off.

"I am alright, Hector. I recall Dagron saying, that first time, that he wanted to learn more about us. When he said he knew enough, he….he somehow released Rogue and Gambit's minds," Nightcrawler remembered.

"So perhaps he truly did leave a -- pardon the expression --- a back door in Rogue and Gambit's minds," Hank said. "A way for him to quickly get back in, once they were physically close enough again."

"But what's to stop him from taking over all of our minds next time?" Jeanne-Marie asked. "I wasn't on that first mission, but from what I heard, it did not sound like it took too long for him to get inside Rogue and Gambit's minds the first time."

"Well, they were separated from the rest of us for a little while," Bobby said. "So maybe it wasn't instant. Do you remember, Gambit?"

"My memories of dat mission are pretty vague, mon ami" Gambit mumbled. "I can't really remember dat much once Dagron gets into the picture." Gambit had no clear memories of that mission from the time he spotted Dagron until he had been beamed back up to engineering and away from Dagron. He was also starting to fear ever getting Rogue out of that coma. The X-men still didn't really know what they were up against. 

"It couldn't have been too quick," Wolverine said. "If Dagron had an instant way to get inside people's minds, then he wouldda gotten inside Jeannie and Kurt and me on that last mission."

"Maybe that's why he kidnapped Jean!" Scott said. "Obviously he has some sort of limited telepathic powers. But maybe he's trying to expand them, make them more powerful."

"An' who better to help him then one of the world's greatest telepaths?" Wolverine summed up. 

"It does make sense," Hank added. "After all, Rogue was under his telepathic command. Why did he not capture her—or Wolverine or Kurt? Jean is the one he captured and it is quite possibly her telepathy that sets her apart."

"So what do we do?" Jubilee asked glumly.

"What else can you tell us about the mission?" Cyclops asked Wolverine. "Is there anything you've left out?"

Wolverine again recounted everything they had seen since they beamed down. He concluded with, "Our readings were probably right. It looks like they are tryin' to build more shuttles."

"Whatever they are doing," Jeanne-Marie began, "might I propose that once we rescue Jean and find a way to wake up Rogue that we get the hell out of here? We might not be able to fight Dagron. Maybe it's best if we leave him the hell alone – whether he's building more shuttles or not."

A few others nodded their agreement with Jeanne-Marie, though the team did not reach any conclusion on that issue. The X-men continued to discuss their situation for a while longer, but they didn't reach a decision on their next course of action. Rescuing Jean and reviving Rogue would be easier said than done, they knew. The group agreed to take a short break.

****************

Gambit pulled up a chair and sat down next to Rogue. He slowly removed a glove, and gently stroked her face. Other people were still milling around the infirmary and he wished he had some time alone with Rogue.

He reached down and planted a kiss on her cheek. The kiss was light as a feather against her slightly cool cheek.

"Chere, I'm sorry," he said quietly. He desperately wished that their last conversation hadn't been an argument. "You know dat I love you. I'm sorry we argued."

Rogue lay as stiff and unconscious as she had been since Nightcrawler teleported her to the shuttle. The machines continued their steady beeps and hums, and there was no change in Rogue's condition. Gambit sat by her side for as long as he could, talking to her and murmuring words of love. "Gonna be alright, chere…you gonna get outta dis."

***************

"It's going to be alright," Scott Summers said, holding Charlotte.

Charlotte was crying in her father's arms. Her tears woke up her brother, who had been sleeping peacefully. Little Aurora played nearby, uncomprehending of the reason for her friend's distress. 

During the X-men's conflict, the children had been ensconced in the rec room. The room had been child safety-proofed and the parents reluctantly had decided to leave them in there. Jubilee and Cyclops had been set up with an audio hook-up so they would have known had anything happened to the kids. The bridge, too, was set up with a video hook-up so that Cannonball (while on bridge duty) could remotely keep an eye on, and talk to, the children as he watched the ship's sensors. 

"Daddy, where Mommy?" Charlotte asked. 

"I don't know now, munchkin," he replied. Jean had to still be unconscious because she had not telepathically contacted Scott. And Charlotte was unable to sense Jean's emotions, because as soon as Scott had entered the rec room, his daughter had tackled him saying "No feel Mommy! No feel Mommy!" when certainly meant that she could not sense Jean's emotions. 

The thought of Jean being unconscious was terrifying to both of them. Although deep in his heart Scott did not believe that Jean was dead, he knew that was not an impossible prospect either. Scott took several deep breaths and replayed various teachings from the Professor over the years. Whatever was happening with Jean, he had to pull himself together and focus. He had to be there for the team, and for his children now too, despite the mental turmoil he was experiencing. 

Jubilee soon walked into the rec room to check on her daughter. Scott continued to comfort both of his children. He spent many long moments with them. When it was time for him to leave the rec room, he turned and started down the hall. 

He nearly collided with Northstar. 

"Northstar." Cyclops said the man's name, a little surprised and unnerved. Scott, immersed in his thoughts, hadn't been paying much attention to whether anyone else was in the corridor.

"Cyclops, I wanted to apologize to you," Northstar said. 

He spoke a little too quickly and was coming on a little to fast for Scott's tastes. Scott was so absorbed with Jean's situation, the events on the planet, caring for his children, and figuring out what the X-men should do next -- that he nearly asked Northstar 'For what?' But then he remembered, of course. The incident had been biting at the back of his mind for the past several days, and Jean had urged him a few times to discuss it with Northstar.

"I was out of line," Northstar continued. "You have a right to your opinion, and I might disagree with it, but that happens. We are not the ones who will ultimately decide what is moral and what is not. So I wish to apologize for losing my temper with you."

Cyclops blinked a few times, though the gesture could not been seen through his visor. He didn't quite believe what Northstar was saying. A few seconds passed as Scott searched for words. "I accept your apology," he said. And then he wanted to add something positive to end their awkward conversation, but he couldn't quite get the words together. He didn't want to say 'I didn't mean what I said that evening,' because he **did** mean the words that he'd said to Jean in the rec room, the words that Northstar and Bobby had eavesdropped on. He didn't want to have it appear that Northstar's apology would prompt him to take back his stance on homosexuality. Besides, if Cyclops even tried that, he knew it would come out sounding a lie. Then he considered adding words to the effect of 'You and Bobby are good people,' but felt that would sound ridiculously condescending and decided against it. 

However, in the second or two that Cyclops silently debated whether or not to say more, he realized that if he didn't say something now, the chance to do so again would not just drop out of the sky. He himself likely wouldn't ever initiate it---so the moment would be gone forever. A few months ago during the X-men's last big return trip to An'zhina, Scott had agonized at his lack of friends aside from Jean. He realized now, with a chill in his heart, that he had made virtually no progress at cementing any real friendships since then. And now Jean was gone until they could get her back. As another second went by, Scott realized that he **did** have to say more, even though he doubted he would ever be friends with Northstar. `Well, you gotta start somewhere,' he told himself.

"And I guess you're right," he began awkwardly. "Sometimes people have to agree to disagree. "But I want to let you know….Jean and I have a lot of respect for you and Bobby. That's one of the reasons that I did what I did to save your life." The words weren't coming out right, Scott knew. He was tripping over and bumping into every syllable. And he realized that last sentence made it appear that he was again trumpeting the fact that he had been responsible for Northstar being cured. So he covered up that bumbling with more words. "And I'm sorry if I was out of line with anything I said or did." 

Cyclops had replayed the incident to himself a few times, and had discussed it with Jean too, but he had not truly felt that he ever really got out of line during it. He **had** been ready to strike Northstar, but Northstar too had been ready for a brawl. Northstar's words had been fighting words, and he had to have known that.

Northstar nodded, and that was the end of their conversation. Cyclops now had to push it away and get back to work on resolving the X-men's current crisis.  


********************

Several minutes after checking in on Rory, Jubilee had left the rec room and found herself on the bridge, sitting next to her boyfriend. They both didn't fit on one chair, so Jubilee sat beside Cannonball, holding his hand.

"Do you ever think Panda was right?" she asked.

"You mean, to stay back on An'zhina with the baby?" Sam asked. He knew this was weighing heavily on her mind; she had brought this up before.

Jubilee nodded. "I mean, maybe I **am** doing the wrong thing. Is it right for Rory to be out here with us? Especially now---when we just got Rogue in a coma and Jean captured."

"Dumplin', you know that we don't really know if it's right or wrong for Aurora to be here with us. You just gotta follow your heart and your instincts on this." He paused and added, "Besides, Rory's a mutant, right? We don't know what her powers are yet, but maybe they'll be somethin' real powerful. Bein' around all these X-men can only help her."

"I guess so."

"'Sides, Rory already did her first great thing on this mission. She actually got Wolverine to smile the other day. She's gotta be the only person who can do that."

Jubilee smiled at Sam's lightheartedness. "I never knew that having a kid would mean….so many questions that I can't answer." She quickly added, "I mean, I knew it wouldn't be a picnic. I knew it wouldn't be easy but I didn't know that I'd spend every minute wondering if I was doing the right thing or not." Jubilee paused and sighed. "Actually, I'm bullshitting. I had no idea. I didn't even think through what being a parent would mean. Once I decided I was gonna have the baby, I didn't think it through at all." She smiled, cutting herself off from getting more graphic. She'd wanted to say, 'I didn't think what it would mean until Rory's head was sticking out from between my legs and I had this red squirmy infant to take care of.'

"Darlin', no one can blame you for that," Sam said softly. "The state of mind you were in when you were pregnant…." He let his voice trail off. "But hey, it's gonna be alright. Rory's gonna be alright and so are you."

The bridge doors opened and Bobby stepped through. "It's time for my shift. And I think the other's are gonna re----"

His voice was cut off by Cyclops's over the intercom. "All X-men please reassemble in the main conference room."

Cyclops had a plan. It was now a matter of getting the team together, enacting the plan, and hoping it worked.

**************

Jean Grey's head felt as if it were filled with stuffing. A dull ache throbbed in the back of her head. When she felt her eyes opening, darkness surrounded her. Keeping her eyes open required too much energy. She shut them again.

"Here. Drink more of this. This will help you."

Jean couldn't place the voice of the person speaking to her and, in fact, didn't know whether she'd ever heard their voice before. She dimly recalled Hank McCoy and knew that the voice did not belong to him. She struggled to use her telepathy to get inside the mind of whoever this was, but for whatever reason, she couldn't connect with her telepathy. She kept reaching for it but could not grasp it and soon grew too tired to continue. The voice that spoke seemed kind though, and Jean sipped the hot liquid that was presented to her.

More time passed, though Jean wasn't aware of it. She dimly felt as if she'd been slipping in and out of consciousness for a while. But this time, her head throbbed less. She could open her eyes more easily and focus her thoughts. She felt more like herself this time. Recent memories came back to her and, as they did so, she felt a chill. She remembered teleporting down to the planet now. She recalled the scuffle with Rogue. The last thing she remembered was a blow to the head. 

As it all became much clearer, Jean tried to grasp her surroundings and focus on her powers. She had the idea that she was not with the X-men. She tried to activate her telepathy and contact Scott. 

Nothing happened.

Jean reached a hand up to rub her head. This time she noticed something. There was something around her neck, something metallic and cold. An inhibitor collar. 

"You look much better now, Jean," a man said to her. Jean used her diminished strength to focus on him. He sat on a chair in the corner of the room. An older woman sat near him. He said something to her and the woman left the room.

Jean mustered her energy and sat up. She took in her surroundings. She was sitting on a comfortable bed in a dimly lit room. Discerning details was still problematic; her mind still felt foggy. But there was no mistaking the man who sat looking at her. Dagron. Tall and slender, with gray and white hair, mustache, and a long wispy beard, Dagron might have been in his late forties, Jean guessed. She had never actually seen Dagron before but her intuition indicated that this was the man.

"Dagron, I presume?" Jean asked. Her voice limped through the room; using her vocal chords had strained her more than she'd anticipated and she was surprised at the weak, raspy sound that came out. 

"Yes. I'm very pleased to meet you, Jean Grey."

Jean wasn't surprised that he knew who she was. According to the accounts of those who had been on the first away mission to this planet, Dagron had boasted of probing Rogue and Gambit's minds to learn more about them. Jean's mind was still injured and slow, but she started to contemplate the limits of his powers, ways to get this collar off her neck.

"Welcome to Nari Silara," Dagron said. 

"Is that the name of your castle?" Jean asked. She presumed that she was now inside the large structure she and the others had seen.

"No, Nari Silara is the name of our planet. My….castle—as you call it--- is known as Gul Dagronol. The structure is called a _gul, _and it has borne our family name for centuries."

"Where did you get this collar from?" Jean asked, tugging on it. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she realized the answer. The X-men must have left some collars inside the shuttle. She remembered vaguely being in a meeting, years ago, when the X-men had talked about the storage space inside the shuttles and had decided to use it. 

"I retrieved it from your shuttle."

"What do you want with me? I want to be returned to the others. Why did you bring me here?" Her weary voice could not muster the strength and command she sought and her words came out as whines.

"You are asking quite a few questions. I think you need to rest more. We will talk more later, and I will be back soon."

Dagron rose from his chair and exited the room, imploring her one more time to get some rest. Jean made as if to follow him but never managed to get to her feet. Still too weak from Rogue's strike, she was forced to lay back down again. She refused to rest though. Her eyes scanned the room. 

Nothing. The bare room presented nothing that appeared as if it could be used as a weapon, and certainly nothing strong enough for her to use to slice the collar off her neck. Although the room was dimly lit, Jean could see that the walls were decorated with several strange markings. Symbols of some sort, she guessed. The floors and walls were all a muted red hue. Jean's fatigue soon caught up with her and it forced her to take some rest. She needed it.

When she'd slept some more and regained energy, Jean rose from the bed. This time, she felt almost back to her normal self---with the exception of the accursed collar which blocked her powers from her. She resumed her search of the room. Smooth walls and no windows, no other escape means and the door was sealed. She tugged on the alien handle to no avail. 

Fighting panic, Jean forced herself to sit back down on the bed and take a deep breath. The other X-men had to know where she was. 

Or did they? Jean replayed in her mind the encounter outside of the castle (or the "Gul Dagronol", as he had referred to it.) She remembered most of it now, and she recalled that once Nightcrawler and herself would have been hit, it then would've come down to Wolverine versus Rogue. Jean sought out possible scenarios where Wolverine could have somehow managed to escape and contact the X-men. She tried to recall Danger Room battles and remember whether or not Rogue was capable of defeating Wolverine in combat. She'd seen those two fight some intense battles in training, and as Jean recalled, they ended up in stalemates more often than not. Jean tried again to contact Scott or Charlotte, knowing it would be futile as long as the collar was in place.

She found she was very thirsty and she badly needed to use the bathroom. An annex to the room contained what appeared to be a toilet and sink, though the shapes were foreign and odd. They were colored a dull red too, like virtually everything else in the room. Jean nonetheless used them and, after washing her hands, drank from the faucet. It tasted just like any water. There had been a glass sitting on the counter, too and it had been filled with a substance that appeared to be water. During her futile search for a weapon, Jean had tried to break the glass. It obviously wasn't made out of real glass; the vessel didn't so much as shatter and Jean had succeeded in only spilling the contents.

She sat back down on the bed and waited, and said a few prayers too.

**************

I sat on the bridge, simultaneously monitoring the others' discussion, the screens which tracked any activity going on in outer space, and the video hook up to the rec room. It looked like Charlotte had sweet-talked her Dad into allowing her to be in the meeting room with the X-men; only Rory and Chris were in the rec room.

I didn't participate in the discussion at all. Basically, the X-men talked around and around what had happened. I heard audible frustration in Gambit, Cyclops, and Wolverine---not a great combination. I hated when any one of them---let alone all three of them----was angry. The anger had a way of dominating the room. But basically everyone seemed to think that the most likely premise was that Dagron wanted Jean for her telepathic powers and that he'd lost his hold over Rogue due to the physical distance between them now. (Needless to say, there had been no change in Rogue's condition.) Other theories were tossed around but those were the two most well-accepted ones. 

They then spent a boatload of time formulating plans for getting Jean back, and for reviving Rogue. I half tuned in and half tuned out. 

When next I paid attention, Gambit was talking. He sounded not just firm but **passionate.** "Dat ain't gonna work, Wolverine. I tell you, a full-on attack ain't gonna do it. He got a lot of men, looks like dey trained as soldiers."

"And they have Jean," Cyclops said. He sounded more sedate now; I think the stress and anger had maybe fizzled out into weariness. "We don't know where she is. If we get to a point where we're winning a battle, he could threaten to hurt her."

"Dat's why I say dat stealt' is the answer." Given Gambit's accent, it took me a second to realize what word he had said. I stifled a most-inappropriate giggle when I made out the word 'stealth.' Gambit had such an interesting way of talking. But giggling wasn't the right reaction; Gambit was still speaking firmly and with ardor, and I hoped the intercom hadn't picked up that sound. "We gotta take dem by surprise. I can do it."

"He is a master thief," Hank said. He was still in sick bay with Rogue; his voice came over the intercom. "If we were to wage a full-out attack, Dagron and his forces are sure to notice. But if a master thief could break in alone….the chances are increased that this mission would be a success."

"And what's gonna stop him from doin' exactly what he did with Rogue?" Wolverine asked. "Dagron's a telepath, an' you and Rogue were the two he had in a trance that first time."

"But dis time I be ready for him. He took me by surprise dat first time. Dis time I'll know he's comin'. I can put up some strong shields."

"It is true that Gambit has an ability to resist telepathy," Cyclops said, almost sounding as if he was reading from Gambit's official X-men files. "During training, you've been able to resist Jean and the Professor."

I peered at the monitor and saw a most-displeased Wolverine shaking his head. "He got you the first time, he's gonna get you again. That's bullshit about your 'shields' bein' stronger ---if they were, you couldda fought him off the first time. We ----"

"I tell you, Wolverine, it was 'cause he take me by surprise dat first time! Dis time, if he tries somet'in' again, I'm gonna know he's comin'. I'm gonna be able to feel it, an' I can block it."

Wolverine went on as if Gambit hadn't spoken. "We let Gambit do this and we're just gonna get another person captured and we'll be no better off then we are now. We gotta launch a full-scale attack on Dagron."

The debate got pretty intense at times. It finally came down to a vote. I had listened in as an observer but I honestly wasn't sure which way to vote. Gambit seemed so convinced that he could do this, but Wolverine kept bringing up a great point---why hadn't he been able to resist Dagron the first time? I hated the thought of Remy being in danger but I also had the feeling that an all-out attack would end in disaster. 

I must confess that when the voting started, I wasn't sure which way I was going to vote. But fortunately, being not in the conference room with the others I got to vote last. So I decided to just vote the way Jean-Paul had. Yes, I know that's totally lame. But I had no idea which way to go, so voting in accordance with my always-opinionated boyfriend was an agreeable solution to me. 

Jean-Paul voted for the Master Thief going at it alone. "My gut tells me that this isn't going to be a case of might versus might, but that we truly have to out-fox Dagron," Jean-Paul said. "If anyone can do it, Remy can."

When the votes were tallied, it was close but the side Jean-Paul and I voted for won. Remy would be on a one-man rescue mission, covertly infiltrating Dagron's headquarters alone. 

**************

Once the matter was decided, Gambit left Freedom quickly. He only made one stop. He went to the infirmary to bid farewell to Rogue. He spoke to her motionless form, telling her that he loved her and promising to return soon. Remy kissed her again and once more felt dismay at her lack of reaction. He stood by her bed for several moments just holding her hand, as the monitors softly hummed in the background, indicating no change to Rogue's condition. 

Cyclops watched Gambit enter sick bay and waited in the hallway. He knew he was being petty, but he wanted Gambit to get a move on. Every minute they delayed could be spelling worse for Jean. Cyclops took a deep breath. 'Well, if our positions were reversed, I'd want lots of time to say goodbye to my wife---even if she was in a coma,' he realized. Besides, their readings indicated that on the area of the planet where Dagron resided, nightfall was just beginning and it made no sense for Gambit to go in any earlier anyway. Cyclops relaxed and no longer resented Gambit for taking time to say goodbye to Rogue.

"Remember," Cyclops began, as they entered the shuttle bay, "if we go for six hours without hearing from you, we're going to go ahead with Wolverine's plan." Wolverine's plan had, of course, involved a full-scale attack on Dagron. The more Cyclops thought about it, the more desperately he hoped Gambit would succeed. A full assault had quite the potential for being a flop. If something happened to Gambit, there would be only 11 battle-ready X-men left ….one or two would need to stay on board Freedom….Cyclops did not think they could defeat Dagron with 9 people, given that they were fighting on such unknown territory…Dagron seemed to have so many men and the extent of his powers was still unrevealed…

Gambit boarded a shuttle with Wolverine and Nightcrawler. When the cloaked shuttle came near enough to the planet, Nightcrawler would teleport Gambit down, and then immediately teleport himself back to the shuttle. Nightcrawler was not yet back at 100% due to his head injury, but he was strong enough.

****************

Gambit found himself on the opposite side of Gul Dagronol, away from the direction the X-men had approached. The other away team had approached under the cover of a forest but the landscape on this side of the castle was quite different. It contained a few sparse trees with several small structures lining the area. The structures appeared to be made of some sort of wood and they resembled huts. They looked as if they could house two or three people each, at the most. Gambit fleeting mused that perhaps they were servants' quarters. 

The lack of cover on this side of the Gul Dagronol was not so much of a problem for a master thief such as Gambit. He moved stealthily and gracefully, and he blended in with the night. Approaching the walls of the structure, Gambit scanned for the best way in. He noticed that several men stood outside, against the building's walls. The men were strategically placed in intervals and they held something which appeared weapon-like in their arms. They had to be guards, of course.

He continued to wait, observe, and plan. 

One of the guards turned to his right. He had thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, on the right side. He shinned the torch he held in that direction. Nothing. There was nothing there. The guard then resumed his normal stance. He then heard something towards his left. Whirling around and shining his light-bearing torch, he again saw nothing. 

The guard took a breath. His senses must have been playing tricks on him, but there was nothing wrong with being alert. The guards had been warned to be extra careful now. He knew they had a special prisoner who had "powerful friends." Besides, tonight was not a windy evening; the air was quite still. The guard kept his eyes and ears ready, wondering if he would hear another telling noise. He made some hand signals to a few of the other guards, but their responses indicated that they detected no intruders.

Gambit retreated in the direction he had approached. His closer inspection of the castle revealed no quick and easy ways in. The walls all appeared slick and smooth. He could find nothing resembling a window, a chimney, basement. Wolverine had been right; this building looked like nothing on earth. 

He tapped a button on his communicator which silently informed the crew of Freedom that he was alright. He then waited and observed more. Perhaps the guards would soon change shifts. At least then he could glimpse someone entering and leaving the castle, which would provide him a clue.

Gambit wouldn't use his powers now. To do so would go against the code of a Master Thief. His challenge was to out-smart and out-sneak his opponents. His foster-father Jean-Luc had instilled this in him long, long ago.

Gambit continued to wait and to watch. More time passed. 

****************

"If you think I'm going to help you, you're woefully wrong."

Jean Grey stood facing Dagron. She spoke with feigned bravado and, making her declaration, had barely stifled an incredulous laugh. 

"You will help me, Jean. If you ever want to see your husband and children again, you'll help me." Dagron's voice was calm and steadfast.

"Dagron, don't bother threatening me. I won't be coerced."

"I am a patient man. I can wait." With that, Dagron left the room.

Jean sat back down on the bed. To think that he had the gall to ask her for her assistance! Jean sighed and wondered what his plan was. Keep her here and wear down her resistance until she gave in and agreed to help? Until the X-men failed to rescue her and decided to leave the planet's orbit? If Dagron had the minimal telepathic abilities he claimed, surely his scans of Rogue's and Gambit's minds the first time through had revealed the fact that the X-men were a family. They wouldn't leave until they rescued Jean.

So the question became: was Dagron's fortress as impenetrable as the wizard had just claimed? 

Jean shook her head. However powerful it was, the X-men had to be able to find a way through. She paced the room and thought some more, turning over different scenarios and possibilities. 'Maybe I should eventually pretend to want to help him,' she thought. 'I can say that I need my collar removed. Then, at the very least, I can then check in with Scott and the others.' She realized, however, that she had no way of telling them precisely where she was. She hadn't even been allowed to leave the room. 'I guess I can't even be certain that I'm inside the structure that we X-men were looking at before I was captured.'

Worst case scenario: perhaps the X-men would leave Nari Silara and return to An'zhina---with the Professor. If Dagron wanted to face off against a powerful telepath, let him spar with Charles Xavier. Of course, Jean realized, her own powers were now quite on a par with the Professor's.

Jean continued to wait, think, and hope.

************

Hours passed. Gambit periodically, and silently, checked in with the X-men. He would press the certain button on his communicator which they'd agreed would indicate he was alive and well. The X-men on board Freedom shuffled around the bridge, variously checking the sensors, hoping they would miraculously point to something overlooked. But even with their maximum sensor array turned on, they could not pinpoint too many specifics on the planet's surface.

Gambit was scoping out the Gul Dagronol from the forested area when he heard a noise. He looked to his left and right, but saw nothing. He looked above himself and saw nothing except for a large, majestic tree, the branches still and quiet in the night. The noise seemed to have stopped, but Gambit held his breath and listened. 

Something. There was something there.

He couldn't pinpoint the location from which the sound came. He wasn't even sure if it had been an actual sound or perhaps rather his intuition notifying him of something. He stood as still as a statue, waiting and listening. He continued to hold his breath. He heard nothing now, but his gut told him that he was not alone. A wild animal stalking him perhaps? Gambit braced himself. If pounced on, he could easily spring up towards that tree and grab the branches. He sniffed at the air---as much as he wouldn't want to admit it, he wished that he had Wolverine's hyper-senses. 

All of a sudden, Gambit felt something tugging at his ankles. In a split second's time, before he had time to react, he was pulled down. Not just pulled down to the ground but pulled down **through** the ground. Whatever had a hold of him was gripping him in a steel death-grip. He just had time to close his eyes and his mouth to prevent them from being filled with dirt.

And then Gambit was falling. His body struggled to make sense of it---he had just been pulled down towards the ground of the forest, was miraculously still alive, and then he was falling through air for several feet. When he felt himself on solid footing, he charged up a card to obtain some light. Able to stand up, he knew he was merely bruised but not seriously injured.

"Who's dere?" he called, somewhat mystified by the events of the past few seconds. Wherever he was now, the air was dull and heavy. But he could breathe. Pitch darkness surrounded him, with the exception of the lighted card. The card emanated enough light that he could see shadowy figures softly billowing around him.

"Gambit. Come with us please. We mean you no harm."

Gambit heard the words spoken. Disoriented, he could not detect from which direction they came. The voice had sounded sonorous and other-wordly. Remy's gut, which had saved him countless times during his life, told him that he was basically okay. Whoever or whatever brought him here was not affiliated with Dagron, he sensed. Gambit groped for his communicator but no signal was detected; none of the buttons responded to his touch. Whatever had just happened and wherever he was, Gambit was now on his own.

"This way. Please." The unusual voice urged him again.

Gambit felt a gentle push on his back. He decided that that, for the time being, the best thing to do would be to go along with these….people (or whatever they were.) His instincts told him not to resist now. So Gambit walked, as he held the card. It illuminated the black shadowy figures in front of him. He heard a few of the figures walking behind him as well, though they kept a respectful distance. As much as Gambit wanted to learn more about his surroundings, he could see little else. All he knew was that warm and humid temperatures closed in on him with air that was difficult—but not impossible—to breathe. He knew that had Storm been here, her claustrophobia would've caused her problems. Remy, fortunately, did not share her fear of enclosed spaces.

After less than a minute, they stopped walking. They came to what Gambit sensed was a circular area. The temperature was less hot and the air a bit sweeter and more abundant. He took a deep and liberating breath.

"Please sit down. Drink some of this cool water." Gambit, still a bit disoriented, could not even detect if the voice was male or female or which of the silhouetted figures was speaking.

"I t'ink before I sit an' do some socializin', I wanna know why you brought me here," he said. To an outside observer, Gambit gave away absolutely no hint of nervousness. Even those who knew him well would not have sensed an iota of fear from him---and perhaps there truly was no fear to sense.

"We brought you here because we wanted to tell you about Dagron. To warn you of him." These words were, Gambit detected, spoken by someone other than the first speaker. This voice sounded older, strained, and even a bit ghost-like. 

"It is prophesized that you would come here." Another voice proclaimed.

Through the light of his card, Gambit saw that the humanoids---there were about five or six of them---were sitting now, in a circle formation. Their dark robes covered their entire bodies and much of their faces; Gambit could not make out their features. The figures seemed tall---though, to a tall man like Gambit, not excessively so. Though his special eyes allowed him to see better than other people, he could not make out much more than that. The room they were in appeared bare of anything else, other than these people.

One of the figures extended something towards Gambit. It was a flask filled with a liquid. "It is cool water. Drink some."

Gambit declined, and instead reached inside his trench coat for a canteen. He drank from there. "Where are we? An' who are you?" he asked. His voice conveyed a little impatience. 

"We are the Nalarians. We are prophets and oracles. We live underground to escape Dagron's wrath." The words were spoken slowly and clearly, without any expression or emotion in the voice of the speaker. Again, Gambit relied on his intuition for a read on the situation. His perceptivity, which had so rarely failed him, told him that these people would not lie.

"It is prophesized that you would come here," another one said. The voice then appeared to be reciting something, "Strangers from far away lands with unheard of powers…..entering the world of Dagron….using their incredible abilities for both good and evil. They will be our salvation and our destruction."

Gambit allowed several seconds of silence to pass when this one was finished speaking. He then asked, "You guys on the run from Dagron? He your enemy?"

"Dagron seeks to destroy our people, or to use us for his own means. He has nearly succeeded in eliminating our kind. And thousands of other peoples too."

"Well den we got somet'in in common. Dagron's my enemy too. He captured one of my people." Gambit couldn't debate them on their prophesies but he could discuss with them their common enemy. 

"We know. He has captured your strongest oracle, one who's powers outweigh his own. He seeks to use her. Once he has taken all that he can from her, he will discard her and he shall be more powerful than ever. The people of our planet—Nari Silara---shall be doomed." A pause, and then the speaker added, "People from other worlds will be doomed as well. Dagron is already amassing an army. His men have studied the space vehicle that your people brought. When he has taken control of Nari Silara, he will next wage war on other peoples."

"Den we gotta stop him. I'm here to rescue Jean---the one he's captured. Can you help me?" It was not that Gambit felt no concern about the words these people spoke of, their foretelling of the ruin that would result from Dagron's ascension to power. But he had to keep focussed on the purpose of his mission. If the X-men had to stop Dagron from taking control of this world or any others, they could do it later on but he was here to rescue Jean.

"Gambit." He was startled to hear his name spoken by one of these figures, but the voice continued on, "We will assist you in rescuing your person. But you must realize that Dagron cannot be allowed to grow more powerful. Your people brought the vehicle here, the vehicle with its weapons of mass destruction. You must face the consequences."

"What would you like us to do?" he asked sincerely. He guessed that there was truth to their words. They had to deal with the ramifications of having left the shuttle on this planet. And besides, he had to go along with them if he were to get their assistance. 

"Stop Dagron. He has ordered thousands of people to their deaths already. He cannot be allowed to grow more powerful."

The Nalarians spoke with Gambit for a short while longer. They showed him a hidden passageway into Dagron's fortress, the Gul Dagronol. The passageway connected with a tunnel that had been used by servants, centuries ago, before the structure had been remodeled. "It will take you into his basement laboratory," one of the people told Gambit.

"He don't know 'bout dis passageway?"

"He has forgotten about it. Those who remember, he has had killed. Dagron does not see us as a threat and it would not disturb him even if he knew of this route."

One of the humanoids reached for a stick and began to draw in the dirt. The drawings showed the approximate lay-out of the castle. Gambit was told that the inside of the Gul Dagronol had appeared this way forty years ago, when this one had been a prisoner who had managed to escape. 

"This place is huge. Do you know where he might be keepin' Jean?" Gambit asked. 

A few more markings were made in the dirt to show Gambit the estimated location of Jean. As the one drew in the dirt, the hood obscuring the face slipped. Gambit stifled a gasp when he saw the person's face. His lit card illuminated the features well enough that he could see much more than he had before. It was a face with no eyes. The skin on the face was whiter than milk. Just by looking at this humanoid's face, Gambit realized what had been floating in the back of his mind since he had been brought here – the fact that these people had no gender, no males and no females. 

"You should not delay any further," Gambit was told, once the one had finished marking in the dirt. 

"What 'bout Dagron's mind control abilities? If I run into him, how can I avoid it?" Gambit asked.

"You do not need us to answer this for you. You already have the defenses that you need. Just be wary and alert. When you feel the whispers starting, throw up your shields."

"Got one more t'ing I gotta ask you bout. We t'ink dat Dagron's telepathy put my wife in a coma."

"Rogue." The name was spoken as a statement, not a question.

Gambit looked at the person who had just spoken and felt taken aback that these people knew so much of him, so much of the X-men. It was stunning, really. When the Endarians had offered a haven to the X-men, Queen Marina and her ilk seemed to know everything about them as well. And now these poor souls—subsisting in underground tunnels of a technologically backwards planet – knew of the X-men. `I never t'ought what we X-men did was so great,' Gambit fleetingly said to himself. `On eart', we fight hard, we love hard, we struggle to do our best. But we really all dat remarkable? So remarkable dat people across the galaxy know bout us?'

"Can you help her? Can I get Dagron to reverse what he did to her?" he asked them. 

"Dagron cannot reverse it. He is like a child with a massive amount of power and no control. He has left people in trances from which they have never woken up."

"What can I do den? Can you help?"

"We are prophets. We do not possess the ability to free someone from Dagron's control."

"What about Jean? Or Xavier?" Gambit asked desperately. He assumed that they would know who Xavier was; they seemed to know everything else.

"It is possible that they could help. We do not know."

Gambit was getting more and more frustrated and fought to keep the sick feeling out of the pit of his stomach. "You're prophets, ain't you? What do your prophesies say bout dis? Don't you got any writins dat talk bout freein' someone?"

"The words handed down from our ancestors tell us only this: _love shall conquer all_."

*****************

TO BE CONTINUED

Your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net 


	16. Chapter 16

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

*****************

Jean sat on the bed of the small room. She was really getting sick of this. She could not detect how much time had passed; she only knew that she was getting bored. Dagron was brilliant, she decided. He left her cooped up in this bare room without a single distraction. There was nothing in here to look at or read, nothing to take her mind off her predicament. For a smart woman who enjoyed using her mind in several ways, this attack of boredom was almost as bad as a physical assault. 

She fought against the fears that inevitably crept up. 'What if all the X-men were dead? What if they've all been captured?' Jean forced that voice to silence itself. This was exactly what Dagron wanted, she knew. He wanted her to despair, wanted her to believe that all hope was gone and that she would have nothing to lose by helping him. 

Jean heard the door to her room opening. She didn't even want to look up this time; it was bound to just be Dagron again, trying to coax her into working with him, helping him master his powers. But she gasped when, instead of Dagron, she found Remy LeBeau standing before her!

The instant he laid eyes on her, he signaled his communicator. "Found her. Get down here, Wolverine." Jean resisted the urge to run up to Gambit and hug him.

Within the span of another second, Nightcrawler and Wolverine teleported down from the shuttle. Wolverine immediately spotted the collar around her neck, unsheathed his claws, and destroyed the inhibitor. 

"Oh thank goodness," Jean sighed. 

Within the passing of another split second, Gambit felt it. He felt the gentle insistence of a telepathic power, a power attempting to gain access to his mind. He had used stealth to easily slip into the Gul Dagronol; he now felt the alien presence trying to be equally furtive in nudging its way into his own mind.

"Fight it, Gambit," Jean breathed, seeing what he was experiencing. 

"We ain't fightin' anything," Wolverine said. He looked at Nightcrawler. "Let's get the hell outta here."

Gambit squeezed his eyes shut and braced a hand against the wall, though he wasn't aware of his physical actions at that point. He had to concentrate on the battle for his mind. He threw down as many mental barriers as he could, attempting to thwart Dagron. Still, the wizard continued to worm his way in, sneaking around barriers, climbing over walls that Gambit erected. Gambit's heartbeat sped up and he started to slump to the floor. He concentrated harder, erecting more barriers, and hardier ones.

And then suddenly it stopped. Dagron's attempted invasion of his mind ceased at once. Gambit looked at Jean.

"I've got my mind inside his….I'm putting a hold on him," Jean explained. Remy looked at her. She appeared strained, but she was handling it well. 

Wolverine gave Kurt the look, and the small monk quickly gestured for each of his three teammates to touch him. He teleported them back up to the shuttle.

As Wolverine signaled the jubilant crew of Freedom via his communicator, Jean replayed the last words she'd heard from Dagron. They echoed about her mind. 

'_You haven't heard the last of me!'_

***********

We got the hell out of orbit of that planet (which I now understand is called Nari Silara.) We set a course to warp towards earth.

Once everyone was settled back aboard the ship, we had a meeting. Gambit told us what he had learned from those underground people, the Nalarians. We had to deal with the fact that we really accomplished nothing on this trip to Nari Silara --- Rogue was still in a coma and we'd changed nothing for Dagron other than preventing him from using Jean to become even more powerful. Jean said that her telepathic "hold" on the wizard was temporary and she was certain that he was free by now. So he was basically just as powerful as ever, and he was still amassing a fleet of starships (based on our shuttles.) We knew that Dagron was a menace to the people of Nari Silara, and possibly to us as well. Once his starships were ready, he could come after us. Or the people of earth.

So I suppose I don't need to say that we had a lot of discussion about this. Many argued that we had already done enough damage and should never visit that planet or area of space again. But I looked at Gambit during the meeting, and he articulated a view that some of the others espoused as well. 

"Dey said dat we brought the shuttle here, and dat it's gonna be used as a weapon. Dey said we gotta face the consequences," Gambit said. 

"I don't dispute that," Jean began, "but we're in no shape to take on Dagron now."

Cyclops sighed. "There is truth to what he says, though. It is partially our fault if Dagron grows more powerful. And if he kills more people. But we just can't take him on now. We have Rogue in a coma, and children aboard this ship."

"We never intended this to be the type of mission where we go into battle," Jubilee added. 

"Perhaps at some point, we can return on a mission specifically to stop him," Hank conjectured. "Maybe once Storm has rejoined us, and the children are left safely on An'zhina. Perhaps we can also enlist the Professor to assist."

"We could do that," Jeanne-Marie began, "but it's still more interference with that planet. We've interfered with these people enough. More interference means more trouble. Can we not just leave well enough alone? We've been enough of a disaster for the people of Nari Silara, and I don't think we can do much of anything to make it better. Let's just get back on our way to earth."

That's basically what we decided (after a few hours of debate. I figured I don't need to write it all out – you can kinda get the drift from here.) We didn't dismiss the possibility of returning someday, but we wanted to continue on our mission to earth. I looked at Gambit, though. He did not look happy.

************

Immediately following the meeting in which the X-men decided to resume their journey towards earth, Jean Grey followed Remy LeBeau to sick bay. She could barely keep pace with the long strides of his strong legs. 

As much as Jean longed to hold her children, her love for and duty towards her friend Rogue beckoned too. (And she had sat with Charlotte on her lap during the meeting, which had been partly fulfilling.) She knew she would have plenty of time to cuddle with the kids soon.

Jean positioned herself beside Rogue's bed. She closed her eyes and held her friend's hand, as she began to delicately probe her mind. Gambit stood by, observing. 

__

'Love shall conquer all.' It was such a cliché, but it was what the Nalarians told him. 'Well, I love Rogue more den life itself. So why ain't she outta dat coma??'

Jean gave a look towards Gambit. "Well?" he asked.

"I don't know whether this is good or bad news," Jean began. "I can sense that Rogue is still all **there.** Her consciousness, her memory, her personality….it's all still there and in tact." She paused, and then spoke again, "But I can't reach her, Gambit. It's as if it's stored away in a locked box."

"You were able to use your powers to stop Dagron," Gambit said. His voice was soft; the words did not come across as accusatory.

"That was different," Jean said, with equal gentleness in her tone. "What did those Nalarians say to you? That Dagron himself wouldn't know how to reverse the damage he caused? But Gambit…I will keep trying. I will continue to try to unlock that box, and reach her." She turned her head and gave a quick smile in the direction of Rogue's face. Rogue looked as if she were sleeping peacefully. "I advise you to do the same," Jean then continued, looking at Gambit. "You might not have telepathic powers, but you do love her as much as anyone here. More than. Keep talking to her and holding her hand. I honestly believe that will do some good."

And that is what Gambit continued to do. He resumed his place in the chair beside Rogue's bed and did not move from that spot. He held her hand and spoke gently to her. After several hours, someone brought him a meal which he did not touch. Gambit kept his vigil by Rogue's bed and continued to speak to the woman he loved.

*****************

"Thank God you're back," Scott whispered to Jean. The children had been put down for bedtime that evening, in their adjoining room. Scott and Jean lay on the bed facing each other, naked and spent. Their lovemaking had been very tender and affectionate, but with more urgency than usual too. As if they couldn't wait to be together in the most intimate way.

"Thank Gambit," Jean said, with a smile. 

Scott gave an ironic half smile, and lowered his eyes.

"What is it?" Jean softly asked, reaching a hand around to stroke his face. 

"Just feeling a moment's worth of guilt, about how I felt about Gambit when he first joined the X-men."

Jean smiled. Cyclops hadn't even wanted Gambit on the team, and had argued with the Professor over that decision. Jean reached for his hand. "Live and learn. Chalk it up to experience," she said, readjusting their position. Their arms and legs were wrapped around each other's.

"And be thankful everything turned out alright." Scott then quickly added, "Except for Rogue." He took a breath. "Do you think she'll recover?"

"I don't know, Scott. There's nothing that Hank can do for her physically. It all has to do with her mind. And I can't reach her."

"Do you think the Professor could?"

"Gambit asked me that same question," Jean said. She remembered that he had looked unsurprised at her reply. "I told him that my telepathy is, more or less, at the same level as the Professor's now. I said there could be a chance that he could do something that I couldn't, but I did not think it was at all likely."

"And Gambit was satisfied with that?" Scott asked. "I'm just surprised that he wouldn't exhaust any and every possibility."

"Well, Gambit knows that I spoke the truth. I truly doubt that Charles could do something for Rogue that I could not." Jean paused, "Besides, I think he's focussed on something the Nalarians told him. About **love** being the way out of this for Rogue. Not that the Professor doesn't love her too, but it's not the same, obviously."

"True. And it's not like it's all over now. Sometimes it takes a while for people to come out of comas. Maybe Rogue just needs time."

A thought then wormed its way inside Jean's mind. It was not a thought she cared to verbalize, but she felt she had to. She asked softly. "What about the Endarians?"

"The Endar----." He abruptly untwined himself from the embrace and sat up. "Shit." He then dropped his head into his hands. "Shit," he repeated.

"Well, maybe they wouldn't be able to help her," Jean said, sitting up and putting an arm around Scott's shoulders. "They have advanced science and medicine, but nothing they have given us indicates that they are more advanced than the Professor or I when it comes to minds. Marina has said they have no mutants, so they can't have mind control experts who are on the level of the Professor and I."

"Jean. Gambit rescued you. We **owe** him. And even if he hadn't rescued you…." he let his voice trail off. "I'm surprised he hasn't asked us already to turn the ship around and go back towards An'zhina." Scott shook his head. "Maybe that's what we should do now. I'll approach Queen Marina and ask her to help Rogue. What does it matter? I'm already a-----"

Jean gently placed her hand over Scott's mouth. "Don't be ridiculous, my love. What you are is a caring and loving man, who takes better care of his team than they'll ever know or appreciate." She paused. "No, I take that back. They **do** all know, deep down, how well you take care of the X-men and they appreciate it in their own ways." She gently placed her arms around Scott's chest. "Please, my love. Let's just give this a rest and give it some time. Let's see if Gambit can help Rogue to recover. Let's wait for **him** to suggest asking the Endarians for help. I don't think, by the way, that he necessarily views it that we owe him – whatever else anyone might have said about him the past, he is loyal to the team. But whatever we do, let's not start thinking farther ahead than we need to. Let's just calm down and wait."

******************

Storm and Marrow were training in the gym on board the Vengeance one day. They hadn't intended to spar off against each other, but Marrow happened to be inside the gym when Storm entered it for her daily workout.

"Shit, you're good," Marrow breathed, when their session was over and Marrow had been handily defeated. Marrow bit her tongue to keep from heaping more praise on Storm. During this battle, they had agreed not to use their powers. Although Storm's ability to control the forces of nature made her one of the most formidable mutants anywhere, she didn't even need to use it to be menacing in battle. Her fighting reflexes and the strength of her bare hands were mighty in and of themselves. 

Marrow caught a brief smile from Storm at her words, and she guessed that Storm knew that Marrow had paid her a rare compliment. "I am glad to still see all that spunk I saw from you, when you used to be an X-man," Storm said.

Marrow turned her back to Storm and reached for the bottle of water near her gym bag. She could not think of a reply to Storm's words, and therefore didn't voice one. 

Marrow gathered her things and left the gym. She had a feeling that Storm was going to try to have a real conversation with her, to perhaps ask her whether she missed being an X-man. In truth, Marrow did not miss her days as an X-man, though she had to admit she was glad for the training Storm, Wolverine, Rogue and the others had provided for her back then. Not that, she mused, she really had used it all that much. During their attacks on the crew of FOH ships, the men were all paralyzed by Psylocke's mind control by the time Marrow got her hands on them.

It had been a while now, Marrow realized as she walked down the hall, since they'd had the pleasure of giving retribution to an FOH crew. Since Dani and Storm had temporarily joined their crew, they had still not encountered any FOH ships. The Vengeance was heading roughly in the direction of earth, hoping to find some FOH vessels, but so far none. Patience did not come easily to Marrow, even though she knew that space truly was so vast, it was not that much of a shock that they hadn't had any run-ins.

Marrow reached her room, showered, and then parked herself in front of a computer for a few hours. She often amused herself with the computer games, though Marrow wouldn't go so far as to say that she **liked** the games. They were a good time-killer though. She had been playing the eternally-popular Tetris for years, and was quite good at it now. What Marrow was really looking forward to, of course, would be spending time with Moonstar later in the day.

Although she knew she had Dani was here on board this ship to essentially respond to her beck and call, Marrow knew to give Dani some space occasionally too. She knew that Dani didn't want to see her 24 hours a day---nor did Marrow really want that kind of constant contact either. So she gave Dani her space. And despite that mutant women tended to have higher sex drives than non-mutant women, Marrow only sought sex from Dani a few times per week. 

Of course that didn't mean that Marrow had cooled off in her feelings towards the young X-woman. She liked Dani – a lot. She liked looking at Dani's face, which was beautiful to Marrow though not considered conventionally attractive by others. She liked playing with Dani's long and thick hair. She liked it when Dani played her flute for her, and she liked watching Dani eat her meals and drink her wine. 

A few days later, Marrow and Psylocke sat on the bridge together.

"Still nothing, huh?" Marrow asked. 

Psylocke just scowled at the monitor and shook her head. 

"We'll find an FOH ship someday. We just gotta keep looking. Or," Marrow corrected herself, "you just gotta keep doin' your scanning."

"I guess so," Psylocke muttered. Truth be told, Betsy was bored to tears. The days were dragging and she was bored out of her mind. Psylocke craved a change of pace, but there was really nothing she could do. Leaving the Pirates was a possibility, but she certainly wasn't going to tuck her tail between her legs and return to the X-men or An'zhina. Earth was out of the question; as powerful as she was, she did not wish to live underground and on the run for the remainder of her life. And the prospect of getting re-captured by FOH was disturbing, to say the least. She could take a shuttle (or a ship, if they ever did engage another FOH vessel) and strike out on her own, but to do what? For what purpose?

"Hey, Psylocke," Marrow began, interrupting her thoughts. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure." This was **not** going to be good, Betsy thought.

"Can you…do something with Moonstar? Like, make her….you know….." Marrow's voice drifted off and then stopped. 

"Make her what, Marrow?" Psylocke asked, impatiently. Marrow had never been good at verbally expressing herself. 

"Make her… you know, like in love with me." Marrow hated to admit this to Betsy, but this idea had been brewing in Marrow's mind for weeks. Besides, it was not exactly a secret that Moonstar was not brimming over with love and adoration for Marrow. Her being here was part of a trade, and that was all. Dani went along with what Marrow wanted without protest, but Marrow wasn't stupid. She knew her feelings simply weren't returned. 

Betsy was silent for several moments. She sat with her gaze looking out of the bridge's large viewscreen. Psylocke silently weighed the pros and cons. She certainly didn't care whether or not Marrow got her love reciprocated, but as with every decision, she looked at it from the perspective of how it would impact her own life. On one hand, it would put Marrow in a better mood, which could be good for Psylocke. 

But Psylocke wasn't really influenced that much by Marrow's moods. And on the down side, Storm would know they'd messed with Dani's mind and wouldn't react well to that at all. That would definitely not be good. They were under pact that Storm would obey the Pirates during her stay here, but still----an angry Storm was not a good thing. Additionally, keeping Dani "in love" with Marrow was not a matter of Psylocke waving a wand and being done with it. It would require maintenance from Betsy. And when it came time to return Dani to the X-men, her teammates would likely be furious if they saw her mind had been violated. Psylocke wanted to keep the Pirates' relations with the X-men the way they were now----with the Pirates decidedly on top.

"I don't think so, Marrow. That kind of stuff never works."

"What do you mean? You're one of the most powerful telepaths in the world!"

"That I am. But Marrow, think about it. Messing with the minds of FOH bastards we plan to kill is one thing. You don't want to screw up the mind of someone you see day in and day out."

"You're skilled enough that you ain't gonna **mess** it up. You know what you're doing."

Psylocke sighed. Marrow wasn't stupid, and convincing her not to do this wouldn't be easy. "Marrow, think about it. You really want someone following you around, dazed and confused, and hopelessly in love with you? You'd get sick of it in a week's time. You like your own space, and you know it."

"Well, I didn't say I wanted her to be like head over heels in love with me. I just want her to….to love me. At least a little."

Psylocke's ears perked up. She had never really heard Marrow express vulnerability like this. Marrow **really** cared about Dani. It was more than lust, Betsy realized, and Marrow was hurting because the feeling wasn't shared. Betsy was a bit shocked to see this fragile side of Marrow.

"There's no way," Psylocke shook her head. "Come on, Marrow, you're a smart woman. If you want her to love you, then give her reason to love you. Using mind control isn't going to accomplish what you really want. Besides….what if someday she's not physically close enough to me for my power to hold her mind? It doesn't work like a gypsy's love spell or anything like that. Dani's going to wake up and realize you've done a number on her. Then she'll really hate you. She'll never forgive you."

That did it. Marrow realized the wisdom of Betsy's answer, and she backed off.   


*******************

Light years away, a man sat alone inside an infirmary, speaking to the one he loved. The infirmary was bright, but the halls outside it emanated only darkness and quiet. No one else stirred on board the rest of the starship, except for Cyclops on bridge duty.

"Did I do the right t'ing, chere? Dey asked for our help. I told dem we'd give it. Dey told us dat we owed dem and dey were right. We left the shuttle on deir planet."

Rogue, of course, did not respond to Gambit's anguish. Her eyes remained shut. The only indication of life was the steady blip of one of the monitors to which she was attached. Yet Gambit sat by her side, holding her hand, as he had constantly since the X-men had left Nari Silara.

"We gonna return to dis planet," he allowed. "But is it enough? Is our business on Nari Silara dat much less urgent and less important den our business on earth?" He sighed. "Maybe Jeanne-Marie and the other be right. We'd jus' be doin' more interference and harm to dem. And maybe we really shouldn't go back till we get the Professor to help deal wit' Dagron." But then Gambit voiced another thought. "What can he do, 'dough, dat Jean can't? She's gotta be as powerful a telepat' as he is now. Well, maybe it's the two-'gainst-one strategy."

Gambit stopped speaking and looked at Rogue. Her face and body remained the same – motionless. He wished her eyes were open; he so longed to gaze again at their emerald green expressiveness. He reached one hand and affectionately caressed the side of her face, knowing, at last, what it must have been like for Rogue years ago when he himself had been in a coma. Before Rogue had mastered her powers, one morning she had accidentally touched his skin, sending him into a coma --- a coma from which the Endarians had used their science to revive him. Rogue had told him what it had been like for her when he was unconscious. He had listened, of course, but now he really **knew**, was able to feel the bone-crushing anxiety and the freezing loneliness in his belly.

"Since we leave dis planet now, are we ever really gonna go back?" he wondered. "It don't seem like anyone really wants to go back. Wolverine does, maybe. He seems to t'ink dat it's the honorable t'ing to do. Storm would, if she was here. But Jean and Cyke jus' worried 'bout deir kids." He paused. "I can't get down on dem for dat dough. I worry 'bout ours too," he said, gently laying a hand on the vicinity of Rogue's abdomen. 

"Am I crazy to even be **t'inking** 'bout goin' back to Nari Silara? Look what dey do to you…."

***************

It was the morning of the day after we'd set out from Nari Silara and back towards earth. Jean-Paul seemed to now be on an early-bird kick; he'd gotten out of bed way early to work out. I looked at my time piece and surmised that he was now in his session with Kurt --- which was a good thing. I really felt that undergoing counseling was one of the best things he'd ever done.

Once I'd showered and dressed, I headed off for the mess hall. On my way there, I passed Jeanne-Marie in the hallway. We chatted for just a bit. She told me that she finished her breakfast and was now off to her bridge duty shift. During our brief interaction in the corridor, I saw a look on her face, and I can only call it a look of relief. I knew that she wanted to be heading back towards earth and she was glad that was exactly what the X-men were doing now. Jean-Paul and I had talked about this. His twin really wanted to know what became of her son. She desperately wanted to check back in with Stephan---even if only through Jean Grey's telepathy. In a way, I was glad for Jeanne-Marie and that she was getting what she wished. But I also doubted that she'd have anything encouraging to find. Last we'd seen Stephan, he was taken by FOH. 

I reached the mess hall and filled my tray with a bowl of oatmeal, slices of apples and pears, a cup of yogurt, and a glass of orange juice. Then I sat down next to Shaman at the table. A few minutes later, I looked up and saw that Wraith had taken a seat across from me.

I hate to say this, but watching Wraith eat can be painful. I've gotten used to looking at him day by day, and I've gotten used to his almost-ghostly see-through skin. But I generally managed to avoid sitting across from him at meals. One time that morning, though, I looked up and saw a lump of chewed-up food sliding down his throat. I looked at my plate again quickly and put the yogurt spoon down, having lost my appetite.

Then I silently chided myself. Sheesh, if anyone should be more tolerant it should be me. I mean, some people find homosexuality 'disgusting', so why couldn't I be more open-minded about other people's differences? I resolved to discuss this with Jean-Paul later on. We'd brushed on the general topic of Hector once before----Jean-Paul was a little put-off by his appearance too---but we hadn't discussed it in depth. I wondered how he felt. And now that he was getting better at sharing his feelings and such, I looked forward to the talk. I wondered had Jean-Paul ever felt revulsion in watching Hector eat? 

When I was finished with breakfast, I went straight to sick bay. Gambit was sitting by Rogue's side. 

"How's she doing?" I asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

"No change," Gambit said, his voice a monotone.

"Maybe you oughtta get some rest. Have you even left this room?"

"I left it a few hours ago to take a shower," he said. Indeed, he smelled clean. But his eyes were dreadful---I knew he hadn't slept a wink the night before. I had to crane my head around to even see his eyes; he didn't turn his gaze away from Rogue. 

"What about getting some sleep though? And did anyone bring you breakfast?" I asked. I winced then, knowing that I sounded like someone's mother.

"Wolverine did."

"Oh." I then spotted the mostly-uneaten plate of food left on one of the counters. 

Helplessly, I placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Is there anything I can do?" I asked, despondent. I then worried, for a split second, about having **again** initiated physical contact with him. One rule for gay guys was to never touch a straight guy, and I'd just done it twice. But this was **Gambit** and he was a friend. I don't think he thought of it the way I did. Or, more accurately I should say, he didn't think of it the way I feared he did.

He then reached for my hand and touched it briefly, in a gesture that conveyed some warmth. His voice sounded hollow and far away. "No."

***************

When I left sick bay, I turned to go down the hall and almost ran right into Jean Grey.

"Hi, Jean," I said. I then added, "It's so good to have you back."

"You have no idea how good it is to be back," she said, smiling and reaching to grasp my hand. She gave it an affectionate squeeze. Jean then looked as if she had something to tell me. "Look, Bobby, I'm going to check in on Rogue again. But afterwards, can you and I go somewhere to talk?"

"Sure. Just beep my communicator when you're ready. Good luck with Rogue."

I had a feeling as to what this talk would be about. I also wasn't all that worried. Jean was easy to talk to and I had always felt comfortable around her. She'd made her request to talk with a warm and friendly smile on her face. So, a little while later, I found myself sitting in a conference room with Jean and the sleeping Christopher.

"Any encouraging news on Rogue?" I asked, knowing if there had been, she wouldn't have that look on her face.

"No." Jean looked as if she was going to say more about Rogue, but she didn't. She then turned to me and said, "Can we talk about what happened in the rec room that day?" At my encouraging nod, she tilted her head back and mused, "It's funny. I was just feeling a sense of déjà vu. Some time ago, you and I were on An'zhina and we had a talk….about our spouses not getting along with each other."

"I remember."

"Of course you remember," she said, smiling. "You have a mind like a steel trap."

"Only about some things," I said with an attempt at modesty. "I forget a lot of things too." Actually, I knew what Jean said was true. I tended to remember stuff decently well. Writing this journal has always helped with that.

"You seem to remember more than most people though."

"Well, about that day back on An'zhina, I remember we were outside on porch swings," I said, deciding to show off my memory. "It was after lunch. You had Christopher with you then, too. You let me touch his skin and it was really, really soft. He was a newborn then."

"And now he's a fourteen-month-old. How time flies!" Jean said. She again was smiling, and I knew that talking to her was going to be painless, as it always was. 

"So, back to our talk over a year ago," I began, not wanting her to think I was dodging the subject. "I was glad we had that talk."

"Me too," Jean said. "You probably remember all the specifics of what we talked about then," she prompted.

"I think so. We agreed that Cyclops and Jean-Paul weren't….didn't seem crazy about each other, to put it mildly. We both admitted that neither one of them was great at making friends and both had….had pissed off a lot of people before. Maybe that was harsher than how we said it but you know what I mean."

Jean nodded, and I continued. "We also said we hoped it wouldn't hurt our friendship. And we said that we thought the two of them had a personality clash but that it didn't have anything to do with Jean-Paul being gay." I paused and smiled. "How was that?"

"Your memory is as sharp as ever," she smiled, shaking her head in appreciation. 

"It's the journal writing I do---that helps." I paused and then looked back at Jean. "You know….a lot has changed in a year's time. I mean….the whole thing with Jean-Paul contracting HIV and what Scott went through to get him cured. That's gotta have…altered things a bit."

"I know. Relationships and friendships change all the time, and that certainly was a change."

And then I had to say it. It was on my mind and it bothered me just a bit, so I decided to spit it out. "One thing also….maybe the fact that Jean-Paul is gay isn't the reason why they don't get along but---but you gotta admit that Scott seems to have a problem with it." I swallowed and then said, "Jean, I feel kinda terrible saying that. Scott saved his life, and I will never forget that. We are in debt to you for all time." I felt my face starting to grow warm. "Maybe it was wrong of me to say what I just did. I--I'm sorry."

"No, Bobby, no---don't apologize. I'm glad you said it. I mean, I think that is one of the problems they have in getting along. So maybe we were wrong a year ago when we speculated that Jean-Paul being gay wasn't the reason they have problems."

"I still think it's not the **reason** for the problems. At least not the main reason. I don't think they'd be best friends regardless of whether Jean-Paul was gay or not. But Scott does seem to have a bit of intolerance. And I know that what he went through for Jean-Paul's sake doesn't help things at all." I shook my head. "Whatever happens with the two of them, I hope we can still be friends."

"We will be, Bobby. I've always liked you---you know that. And I think you've always liked me."

"Of course I have." I swallowed. "And you know," I began, looking down at my hands, "Scott has a right to be….not okay with homosexuality in general, if that's what he wants. I mean, as long as he doesn't go around beating us up or hurling anti-gay insults at us, he can **think** whatever he wants about it. You know, when I lived in San Francisco….you remember I mentioned my boyfriend at the time, Michael?" At Jean's nod, I continued, "Well, Michael was a vegetarian. He didn't approve of meat-eating, but he didn't go around telling people not to eat meat either. He decided to have the mindset of 'live and let live.' So I guess it's kind of like that with Scott. If he doesn't approve of people being gay, then that's that – it's his opinion. Jean-Paul and I might disagree with it, but he still can have his opinion."

Jean nodded. "And I want you to know that I disagree with Scott's opinion. I think that any and all love is **good**. I think you and Jean-Paul have something special together, and that's wonderful. I love seeing you so happy and content at last, and if Jean-Paul is the person who brings that to you, I am completely and one-hundred-percent in support of it." At her words, I couldn't help but to smile. I had sought approval and acceptance all my life. Jean-Paul would disdain me for wanting and needing her (or any heterosexual's) approval, but that's the way I am and it's one way that he and I are different. 

And despite my taking-the-high-ground words a minute ago, I much preferred Jean's loving acceptance over having to deal with Scott's bare-bones tolerance. Maybe that's why I'd always be such good friends with people like Jubilee and Hank, and Rogue and Gambit. For them, it's never been an issue and they accept me the way I am….they don't have to merely deign to 'tolerate' me, as if I were a sinner and they were oh-so-morally superior.

Jean then added, "And I like the 'live and let live' philosophy. That's how we raise our kids, and maybe Scott could improve on that with himself. I'll talk to him about it."

"Please don't feel like you have to. I mean…like I said, w-we owe Jean-Paul's life to Scott." I had to remember that always. I wasn't crazy about Scott's attitude but the fact remained – he would have this over us for as long as we lived. And then it hit me --- how truly wonderful Jean Grey was. She could have decided to hate Jean-Paul and I for this. She could've become bitter over what Scott did with Queen Marina. And it had appeared for a while there that she **was** having a tough time. But looking at her eyes, I knew she was the same Jean Grey as always. No wonder so many people on the team adored her. 

"Whatever does happen," Jean said, reaching to squeeze one of my hands, "let's make sure we remain friends and we keep having the ability to talk about it, if problems arise."

At that point, Christopher woke up and started to cry. Jean turned her attentions to her son, and 

our meeting was over. 

And later that day, I found that irony had reared its head. Over a lunch which we'd decided to eat alone together in our quarters, I told Jean-Paul of that morning's conversation. He said simply, "Oh, I apologized to Scott for my outburst."

"What? When?" I asked

He gave me the details. All I could do was smile. Neither Jean Grey nor I had known of the steps our guys had taken to try to reconcile. (Well, "reconcile" is probably the wrong word. But at least Cyke and Jean-Paul had apologized to each other.) Even still, I'm glad Jean and I had that talk.

***************

Jubilee walked down the corridor towards the bridge. She was scheduled to relieve Wolverine's shift at the helm. "Hey, Wolverine," she greeted, as she stepped through the bridge's doors.

"Hey," he returned the greeting with a nod. It was more than he gave to most people, and Jubilee was grateful.

"Aurora's with Sam, if you want to play with her. You know how much she loves her Uncle 'Wolly.'" Jubilee had hoped that might provoke a smile, or a grunt, or **something**. No such luck. She sat next to him, in the First Officer's chair, and she felt her heart sinking. She cared about Wolverine so much, and he was so obviously depressed and miserable without Storm. Yet Jubilee felt helpless. She could ask him how he felt or whether he wanted to talk about it, but she may as well talk to the viewscreen. 

Jubilee realized something, however. Sometimes it seemed that Wolverine perked up when **she** sought his help and he was the one doing the counseling. And there truly **was** something on Jubilee's mind that she wanted to discuss with someone. 

"How are things with Sam?" Wolverine asked. 

Jubilee's eyes widened at his query. Did he have telepathic powers?? "They're okay," she replied. "I mean, they're good."

"He takin' good care of you?"

"Oh, yes. Sam's very sweet. He's easy to talk to, and he treats me like….like a lady, I guess. He gets along real well with Rory, too. Though you're still her favorite uncle."

That did produce a small smile from Wolverine. It quickly vanished, and he added, "But you got somethin' you ain't tellin' me."

"Okay, Counselor Wolverine," Jubilee said, smiling and crossing her arms. She was, indeed, glad at his perceptivity and at the chance to bring this up with him. "I guess you read me so well, you oughtta just read my mind."

"I can tell somethin's wrong, darlin', but I don't know what's eatin' you."

Jubilee hesitated now, even though she'd already had the idea to ask for his help. Could bringing this up only hurt Wolverine more? She worried, but she decided to risk it. She'd had these thoughts bottled up in her for some time now and had verbalized them to no one. Finally the dam broke.

"I like Sam a lot," Jubilee said. "But I don't know if I love him. It doesn't seem to be what the other couples have."

"What do you mean?" he asked gently.

"Well, like you look at the other couples and they're all so…so **intensely** in love. You got Gambit sitting at Rogue's bedside day and night till she gets better," she began, counting off the couples on her fingers. "You got Bobby and Northstar….I used to wonder if Northstar loved Bobby as much as Bobby loved him, but now even **I** can see how much Northstar does love him. And – " she hesitated saying this to Wolverine, but only for a split second – "Jean and Scott. They have such a bond. I think they have the same heartbeat. It's like all of these couples are so passionately in love, you can **feel** it when you walk down the halls of this ship." She had considered adding Wolverine and Storm to that list but decided against it. Besides, it didn't really need to be said. 

"I mean, I like Sam," Jubilee continued. "I really do. He's a good man, a great kisser." She left off that their sex life was slowly and steadily improving. Wolverine sure did not need to hear that. "But I don't know if he's…sorry if this sounds corny, but I don't know if he's my soulmate."

Wolverine was quiet for a few seconds. "It might take time k—Jubilee," he said finally, almost calling her 'kid' but stopping himself in time. "Love ain't all fireworks and sappy music. You can grow into it."

"I dunno. Like, if the 'passion' or whatever isn't here now, can it ever be?" And she had to admit, though certainly not to Wolverine, that Cannonball didn't make her heart skip a beat the way Wolverine himself---or even Bobby, for a time---used to.

"Maybe you don't need passion. Maybe love's more important than that."

Jubilee decided to take an enormous risk. She knew she was probably the only person who could ask Wolverine this. If he didn't answer, he didn't -- answer but she thought he wouldn't be mad at her for at least asking. 

"When did you first feel that you loved Storm?"

Several seconds went by without an answer. Jubilee looked straight ahead, out the viewscreen, avoiding Wolverine's eyes. "Not for a long time," he said. Wolverine was then silent for a long time, and Jubilee thought he might be done answering. But she held her tongue, and he spoke again. "Not even after we started up together. Not until she let me go." He was quiet again for a while, but then added, "Give it some time. Love can take awhile. 

She looked at his face and saw the pain and anguish there, the agony he felt at being separated from Storm. And still Jubilee was not convinced that she would ever feel for Sam how Wolverine obviously felt about Storm, or Jean about Scott. 

Wolverine stood up to cede the bridge to Jubilee. "And maybe it'll turn out that Sam ain't the one for you," he said, as he started to leave. "That's why people date, so you get to feel out different relationships and see what you're best with. Maybe someday you'll meet someone who is the right one. So take it slow with Sam. You don't need to rush off into anything like marriage, till you're sure."

"We're a **long** way from anything like marriage, don't worry," she smiled. "She stood up, reached up and kissed his cheek. When he left the bridge, she could not help but to be pleased. He'd opened up more to her than he had in ages, and more to her than he probably had to **anyone** since Storm left. 

***************

Queen Marina looked at the faces of Charles Xavier, Moira MacTaggert and Sean Cassidy through her view screen. She had their return image set up so that little beneath her neckline would be visible. 

"My Executive Council is meeting with me tomorrow to discuss the situation," she informed them. 

"What do you think might happen?" Xavier asked. "Do you think your crown is in jeopardy?"

"It is possible, but not likely at this point, I think." Since the FOH ships had been repelled from Endarian space, Marina had been working tirelessly with her Council, pulling as many favors as she could. She felt it was unlikely they would vote to recall her. After all, the FOH attack was not directly her fault. She did, however, think it most likely that they would issue an official reprimand to her for giving over the moon to off-worlders. That way the Executive Council could appease their worried constituents without causing a revolution or handing the crown over to Marina's inept brother.

"Do you think it is possible that they will overturn your Binding Executive Order?" the Professor asked, referencing the order that Marina had issued which turned over the deed for the moon of An'zhina to the X-men.

"It is quite unprecedented for a Binding Executive Order to be overturned," Marina said. "However, an attempted invasion of Endaria is also unprecedented. I would say that it is possible they might demand that I revoke my Binding Executive Order."

"What would we do then?" Banshee asked.

"You would all then be asked to leave Endaria."

"But we have no starship here large enough for 320 people. We have only one shuttle --- it could hold ten, eleven at the most."

"In all likelihood, one of two things will happen," Marina replied. "Either we will lend or give you a starship, or we would ask you to wait until the X-men return with your vessel. I think the later is more likely." She paused. "But do not despair. I do not want you to have to leave Endaria, and I am optimistic about this meeting."

"Let us hope—and assume---that your position as regent of Endaria is not in serious jeopardy," the Professor began, "and you are not asked to revoke your Binding Executive Order. What then?"

"In that case, all will proceed as normal. Unless, of course, FOH has not wised up and they decide to attack again. If that were to occur, I would say all bets are off, to use one of your expressions."

Their conversation soon ended and Marina signed off, promising to update the X-men leaders as soon as her Executive Council reached a resolution. Being censured by them would be unpleasant, to say the least. But her dignity could survive that. Despite everything, she was a popular monarch. The Queen just had to hope that she had influenced the Council enough for them to decide in her favor. 

Back on An'zhina, the Professor turned to Moira and Sean. "Well, we have one thing on our side at least," he began. "As vicious as they are, the Friends of Humanity are not completely stupid either. By now they should have learned to stay away from here."

Moira nodded. "The Endarians sent their last fleet away with nary a problem. And before that, of course, Psylocke and Marrow destroyed two of their vessels. Maybe they will be smart enough to realize they canna waste any more lives by sending more ships here. Or perhaps I should say, they canna waste any more time or supplies, since they certainly value that above their own soldiers' lives."

Banshee listened to his wife's words and shook his head. "You two are quite the optimists, Moira and Charles. I do na think the Friends of Humanity leaders have more than half a brain each. All they care about is blood. And destroying us, getting revenge. I do na think they are smart enough to stay away from here forever, even if it does mean a waste of cannon fodder on their part. They are so hell-bent on **us**."

Sean's words echoed in Xavier's ears the following day. Even after Marina contacted the leaders, Xavier still worried. As Marina had predicted, for the time being they were safe: The Executive Council made their decisions and Marina had been censured --- but, fortunately, not removed from power, nor asked to revoke her Binding Executive Order. But the Professor knew that the X-men's status on An'zhina had never been more precarious than it was then.

****************

Two days after we set out from Nari Silara, Cyclops called the team together for a meeting. He had decided that since we were now heading back towards earth, we needed to do more group training sessions. People usually worked out (in the Danger Room and/or just in the regular gym) either in small groups or going at it solo. Cyclops said that we needed to practice more as a complete team. He had a point, I had to admit.

So we (or **he**, really) decided to pull everyone together for at least two hours per day. Whoever had bridge duty was exempted from the team training. And as for the three children on board Freedom, they would play in the rec room, monitored by whoever had bridge duty. It didn't always work ideally – sometimes Jean, Scott, or Jubilee ran out of the Danger Room if a child crisis emerged, but truly the kids didn't pose much of a problem at all. Cyclops specified that we would have periodic meetings to discuss how well the team worked together, and areas for improvement.

Given his dedication to Rogue, I hadn't expected Gambit to leave sick bay for the team training, but he showed up dutifully. He looked haggard and miserable when he entered the Danger Room. When he left it, he looked marginally better –a good workout could do wonders in getting the endorphins pumping -- though his fighting skills just weren't up to par. Not that I could blame him. No one did. Rogue's condition hadn't changed at all during these two days.

Given the intense training schedule, people spent a lot less time on the holodeck. Which probably was a good thing anyway.

After one of our sessions, I found myself sitting on the bleachers next to Hank. (I don't know if I ever described it well enough, but the Danger Room is inside the gym. When we "turn off" the Danger Room, we're basically back inside the gym—which is why I was sitting on bleachers that day.) I gulped water, exhausted but happy with how it had went. Hank and I chatted a bit, Hank complimenting me on a move that Jean-Paul and I had done. During that day's battle, we had fought against a simulated FOH squad. 

Soon Hank and I looked up and saw Jean and Scott sitting themselves down next to us. 

"Good job," Cyclops said. "Both of you, Beast and Iceman – you performed very well today. Bobby, you were really great on that move where Northstar flew you over the heads of the soldiers and you froze them from above."

"Thanks, Cyclops," I said. 

This is going to sound horrible. I really prefer the praise that I get from Wolverine during karate training over the praise from Cyclops. I know, that's horrible. Any compliment at all is good, and I should be grateful to Cyke for noticing me doing a good job. But maybe that was it exactly….with Cyke, I didn't want to have to feel any more **grateful** than I already had to. 

Of course, maybe there's more to it than that. I've worked my butt of during karate training with Wolverine, and he's never gone easy on me. He's sparing with praise, but when you get some, it's because you have really, really earned it. The work I did in the Danger Room, using my ice powers….I'd been doing that for more than sixteen years (minus the years I spent away from the X-men.) I didn't have to work as hard at it as I did in karate. 

I also don't mean to sound like I'm ragging on everybody, but Hank's performance that day actually hadn't been that good, despite what Cyclops said. Hank's my best friend and I love him to pieces, so I'm obviously not trying to slam him. But he definitely hadn't performed that day to the best of his ability, which made Cyclops's compliments ring that much more hollow.

"What is your opinion of the team's performance, following these first two team sessions?" Hank asked. 

"I think we're doing well, by and large," Cyclops answered. "We are handicapped because we don't have Rogue and Storm, of course. And it was too bad that Cannonball had bridge duty this time---I would really like to see him get more experience working with the team overall. There's always tomorrow though." He stopped speaking and there was a pause. He then asked, "What do you think?" Cyke looked at Hank and then at me, indicating, I think, that he wanted both of our opinions.

"I also believe the sessions went well," Hank said. "We function together well. I believe that Wraith's confidence is increasing."

"I think so too," Cyclops nodded. "But I am also thinking of ways to get him to step out of the sidelines and take more of an active role in the attacks." He paused and added, "The nature of his powers might make it harder for him to do that, though, since they don't have the aggressive nature of some of our other powers."

"But still, he could be a valuable asset on any mission," Jean said. "I think we just need to work on increasing his confidence and thinking of the best way to deploy him in a combat situation."

"I agree," Cyclops said. I silently muttered that it was too bad Storm was not with us. She could do wonders for anyone's confidence, and I didn't suppose that Cyclops would. 

"Hey, I just realized something," Jean said. "It's just like the early years---the four of us training together. All we need is Warren, and we'd have the original five X-men here."

"Perhaps we should engage in a session of the four of us only," Hank suggested, with a smile. "For old times' sake." 

"I can't believe how long ago that all was," Jean said, shaking her head. "When the five of us began together. It has to be….sixteen, seventeen years in the past."

"Remember those days?" Cyclops murmured wistfully. "The Professor watching us train, giving us orders over the speaker."

"I fondly recall the practical jokes we used to play on one another," Hank said. "I did not learn what humor truly was until I began to work with the team."

"I will never forget the excitement of the time," Cyclops said. "We knew we were preparing for something big, but we didn't know what. The Professor didn't know either. It was scary but it was really exciting too."

"Remember when the heat broke in January?" Jean asked. "We couldn't get a repairman for two days, so we trained in the freezing cold." She looked at me and smiled. "I guess it gave you an advantage, didn't it, Bobby?"

I murmured something and returned her pleasant smile, but I couldn't return my teammates' apparent nostalgia for the "good old days." Those had been such difficult days for me, back then. Awful. I'd had way too many nights of crying myself to sleep, too many thoughts of suicide. Too many nights of sneaking out to the bars for a meaningless encounter and trying to live with the self-loathing in the morning. No….my life was so much better now, so many light-years better now. Reflecting on the past only made that fact more obvious to me, and I couldn't work up much excitement for those days gone by. Besides, what was it all for? Here we X-men are today, exiled from earth, our mutant brothers and sisters rounded up into concentration camps….lot of good our early days training at the mansion did.

Jean looked at me and I wondered if she had maybe read my thoughts, or at least guessed them. Hank and Cyclops continued to reminisce for a bit, until Jean and Cyclops's communicators sounded. Cannonball told them that their son had woken up and was crying.

Jean stood up. Then Cyclops stood and said, "No, Jean, I'll get him this time. My turn."

Jean gave him a quick peck on the cheek and Cyclops departed. Hank and I remained sitting on the benches, and Jean resumed her place next to us. 

"I wonder if I should go after them," Jean murmured. She added, "I missed the kids so much when I was held captive by Dagron."

"It must've been awful for you," I said.

She looked at me and said, "Bobby, I never knew how…how incredible love was – and how painful it can be --- until I became a parent. Being away from Charlotte and Chris was just agonizing. I was writing a poem last evening and I came upon an insight." 

"Really?" I asked. Hank and I both leaned forward a bit, eager to hear Jean's words. 

She said, speaking slowly, "I realized that you love your children more than you ever love your parents. Far more. Only now that I'm a parent do I finally understand the unrequited love that parents have for their children. They'll never love me as much as I love them, and that's all there is to it. I mean, I love my parents but it's just not the same as the intense way I love my kids." She paused. "And Charlotte and Chris won't understand or appreciate it until they themselves become parents. It's tragic, in a way." 

Jean then got a look of worry on her face. "I—I'm sorry. I see that both of you look hurt by what I just said."

I looked at Hank. I was so wrapped up in how something she had opened an old wound on **me**, that I hadn't even seen the hurt look on my best friend's face. "What is it, Hank?" I asked. And then---duh---I realized it. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Please, there is no need for either of you to apologize," Hank finally said. "I am indeed saddened to be apart from my son---and my wife---but I shall survive this."

Jean laid a hand on Hank's arm. I patted his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" Jean asked quietly, after a short while. I think the three of us were content to just sit there, taking consolation from each other.

"No. No, I thank you for the offer, but I would rather not." His voice sounded empty, but I saw him gently squeeze Jean's hand. 

We had to honor his wishes. Hank added that he appreciated our concern, and he soon excused himself to head for the locker room.

"He's hurting so much," Jean murmured, watching him walk away. "I wish there was something I could do to help." She then turned to me. "But I saw a flash of pain in your eyes too." I wondered how guilty Jean might feel, having brought up a topic that saddened both Hank and I. It wasn't her fault, of course, but it seemed she felt really really bad about it.

"It's nothing," I muttered. I added, "Especially not compared to what Hank's gotta deal with."

"Are you sure? I would be more than happy to listen, if you'd like to discuss it with me." 

I don't know if Jean sensed that partly I did want to talk about it, but she gently prodded me a bit more. So I finally opened up. "Well, it's just something you said. If parents really love their children that much, what about my parents? They disowned me. They threw me out and didn't want anything more to do with me. How come they didn't feel that love that you spoke about?" This question had always been with me, in the recesses of my mind. And yes, I had discussed it with my therapist during all my years in therapy. Jean's words brought all the pain to the surface again though---can such a hurt ever really be erased?

"I can't figure it out, Bobby," Jean said soothingly. "I don't understand what they did at all. I mean….I think you're a wonderful, sweet person. I think any parent would be glad to have you as a son. My parents even commented on how nice you are, and you know the Professor thinks the world of you too."

Somehow I let Jean's compliments fly over my head. I was too absorbed in what I'd just said, but I only later realized what a loss it was to let her words slip through my fingers without grasping them. "I didn't mean to sound like I'm whining," I quickly said. I knew that self-hatred was an old, familiar, and even _comfortable _place for me to be. Despite how far I had come, I still had to fight against my tendency to slip into that.

"No, no – my goodness; I would never think that," Jean said.

"There's no point to self-pity, I know that. Like I discussed with my therapist, if my parents didn't love me, they didn't love me, and I can't do anything about that. But I know that I've always felt in the back of my mind that I'm such a terrible person. Like, if I'd been a better person, they wouldn't have thrown me out."

"But surely you know that the problem was with **them** and not you," Jean insisted.

"Yeah, I know that in my head. But it's hard to really internalize it, really believe it, you know?" I shook my head. "I haven't seen my parents or brothers for more than sixteen years. I like to think that it's all behind me, and I've accepted that the X-men are the only family I have. And most of the time I do think that, but every now and then, something sets me off. The comment you made about loving your children just somehow brought up the old pain."

Jean shook her head with a wry smile on her face. "I thought I was sharing a neat insight I stumbled upon last night, and instead I ended saying something that caused pain for two of my friends!" I could tell from her voice she felt bad about it, but she wasn't beating herself up over it either – which was good; there was no reason for her to feel guilty.

"Hey," I patted her hand, "it wasn't your fault. Don't stop with the insights, okay? We could all use a good insight every now and then."

That day wasn't one of my better ones, I'll admit. And during dinner, Jean-Paul neglected to finish his dessert. It was a great dessert too; we'd replicated a sumptuous new recipe for crème brulle. "What's wrong?" I asked. He never left unfinished food on his plate. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and smiled mischievously. "Oh," I realized. There **were** a few times when he wouldn't finish his dessert – when he had something in mind for later on. I knew this meant that later that evening in bed I was going to end up slathered with whipped cream, honey, chocolate sauce, or god-knows-what-else. Great. 

*************

TO BE CONTINUED. Please send feedback to stormkpr@usa.net (or post a review on fanfiction.net.)

And a big thank you to Leigh for beta testing and to Ann for re-joining the beta testing fold. J 


	17. Chapter 17

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

*************

Four days after the X-men had departed from Nari Silara, Jean approached Hank. The doctor gave her the update she requested; nothing he said surprised her in the least. There was no change in Rogue's condition. 

Jean brought breakfast to Gambit. He was sitting at his post by Rogue's side. The only time Gambit made public appearances was during the team training sessions. He didn't look up when Jean placed the tray on the counter next to him and then left sick bay. Jean knew that Gambit had been there all night.

`What would the Professor do?' Jean asked herself as she walked down the hallway. She mulled over that question, allowed it to stew and simmer on her backburner. After a while, she got an idea. She returned to the infirmary.

"Gambit," Jean said his name, placing a hand on his shoulder. She felt the cottony material of his T-shirt. It was getting threadbare in a few places.

"Hi Jean," he mumbled. He actually turned his head and made eye contact with her, though one of his hands remained holding one of Rogue's.

"I—I wish to discuss something with you. I have an idea of how I – we might be able to help Rogue."

Gambit's face perked up and, for an instant, he resembled the old Gambit that Jean knew. "Tell me 'bout it, Jean," he eagerly begged.

"We know that I can not get inside Rogue's mind," Jean began, "but I have an idea. What if **you** are capable of getting inside it? You're not a telepath, but I think that I can take you there. I can first enter your mind, and link our consciousness together. Then I can take you to Rogue's mind….to that locked box that I wasn't able to open. Maybe **you** can be the one who breaks her out of it. If we do this, it will let you get a lot closer to her mind---far closer than you've been able to this way."

"Jean, I'll try anyt'ing to help Rogue, you know dat. You t'ink dis will work?" Gambit's eyes once again reflected a hint of their usual fire. 

"I don't know for sure. But I think there's a good chance. At the very least, it's worth a try." She then paused and took on a more serious tone. "But Gambit, there is one thing you must keep in mind. When I enter your mind to link with you – "  


"I know. You gonna have access to my memories. To everyt'in." He stated the words plainly, without emotion.

"Yes. I certainly do not intend to browse around and invade your privacy. But….I wonder how I might explain this….even if I do not actively seek out your memories and thoughts, I will have been exposed to them."

"I know. Jean, remember I know a lot 'bout telepat'y; I got a good idea 'bout how dis works. You go into my head, even if you don't plan to sit dere and read my mind, you still gonna have an imprint of my past. It's gonna pop into your head wit'out you tryin'---for mont's or years to come."

Jean nodded. "I see that you do understand it exactly. I could find myself – a year or two later---sitting in the same room with you and feel one of your memories pop up, or be able to read whatever thought you have that day, without really trying." She took a breath. "Remember those FOH men who's minds I entered, to change their minds about using the virus against us?" At Gambit's nod, she continued, "I will occasionally find myself experiencing a memory of one of theirs. It's annoying and I can brush it aside easily. And it's really not too bad since I never **see** these men; never even met them before I read their minds. But you and I are in close contact quite a bit. This….this would really compromise your privacy. And, um, I know that none of us have exactly been saints in the past…."

"Leas' of all me," he finished for her. "Dat's okay. Jean, you know dat I gonna try anyt'ing to save Rogue." He spoke the truth. The idea of his mind exposed, naked was hard to stomach. Gambit treasured his privacy above almost all else. But he treasured Rogue more. The words of the Nalarians rang in his ears: _Love shall conquer all. _Maybe his sacrifice, born out of love, would be the act of love needed to liberate Rogue.

"And you know that I will not tell anyone of whatever I find in your mind. I promise to respect your privacy and never reveal what I learn." 

"I understand."

Jean then added, remembering Gambit's slight telepathic abilities as evidenced by his shielding, "Given your limited telepathic abilities, it is at least possible you might absorb some of my memories and thoughts, as well."

"If dat happens I promise to do the same wit' you and respect your privacy. Can we start now?"

****************

Hank was informed of their plans, and a sign was placed about the locked doors to sick bay. Hank would remain in the lab, loosely monitoring Rogue as they worked. Jean seated herself next to Gambit and began to open her mind, and open his.

Unpeeling the layers of Remy LeBeau's mind was far more difficult than tapping into the FOH members' minds. Jean assumed that Gambit had, over the years, erected so many shields to protect his consciousness. And he now, even though supporting what she was doing, was unable to consciously remove the barriers. Or perhaps he had removed many of them but had constructed additional protective barriers that he was not consciously aware of. So Jean worked around the shields, patiently and skillfully stripping away the protective coating. With each passing minute, she gently unwrapped another layer, akin to peeling the green leaves off of a husk of corn.

She worked diligently until she finally reached the core of Remy's consciousness. In the mental landscape of her mind, Jean placed her arms around Remy and felt herself infused with his spirit. She absorbed his being. She then firmly grasped one of Remy's hands and led him towards a tunnel. The way Jean's mind saw it, they were swimming underwater in a vast sea, swimming peacefully together towards a particular channel. Jean was leading Remy as they swam, but he eagerly kept pace with her. 

Once they swam down the passageway, Jean led Remy to a treasure chest. She wasn't sure why her mind painted Rogue's consciousness in the likeness of a treasure chest. Maybe, she would later speculate, it had been because when Jean first met Remy, she had – only half-seriously -- viewed his image as resembling that of a pirate.

Still holding hands, Jean and Remy swam downwards and surrounded the treasure chest. They outstretched their arms and embraced it. 

Jean then looked at Remy. It was his turn.

*****************

A flurry of images, a cascade of mental fragments drifted. Various clippings from the memory swam by.

An older woman, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, saying, "Your powers are a gift, not a curse. Raven and I will teach you how to use them." The warmth of hot tea sliding down the throat.

A man with a heavy southern accent and alcohol on his breath, yelling and throwing a bottle against a window.

A strong woman flying through the air, commending her for just having helped the X-men save the world. The intense feeling of power and pride. Having a purpose in life.

The loud sounds of a motorcycle, as heard from a bedroom window. Peering out at a mysterious man in a trench coat, duffel bag draped over his shoulder, walking into the large mansion. 

Panic and fear, holding onto a young woman in a speeding aircraft as her powers and mind were absorbed. The rush that followed, when the ability to fly and the super-strength had been taken. The confusion and terror over not being able to control new abilities. The inability to drown out a voice that haunted the mind for days, then weeks.

Leaving home again, with the mind more ragged and scarred than ever. Jaded and numbed, but even still feeling the ache of loneliness worse than ever before. 

**************

//Focus more, Remy// Jean communicated telepathically. //See if you can grasp on to some concrete memories. Try for some that you remember, too, so that they will be more clear.//

Gambit's head hurt. Even in the trance state Jean had him in, he could feel the exhaustion of their work. 

//Concentrate, concentrate. It will make more sense to her if the memories are in chronological order.//

***************

Sitting in a car, driving it away from the mansion. Gambit trying to convince her to stay, convince her that he wouldn't mind a hospital stay in exchange for a kiss. Raging at him, "How about gittin' your butt outta my car?" Hoisting him out of the convertible with one hand.

Sitting in a prison cell on a strange world, Mr. Sinister standing by, ready to torture Rogue. Gambit grasping her to him, kissing her. "Gambit never say dis to anyone before. Gambit love you." The stunning realization that Gambit spoke the truth, the confusion over not knowing what to do with this love.

Being awakened from a nap by Gambit's kiss. Reaching with shock and seeing Gambit toppling over and falling unconscious as she herself was filled with his powers, his emotions. Shivering in her room alone much later, wrenched from that millisecond of paradise as she wished she had been awake for that instant where lips had touched lips.

Remy touching her breasts through the thin cloth of her shirt. Straddling his leg and thrusting her hips against it. Kneeling before him and stroking his hardness through her satin gloves, her eyes wide at the sight of him naked. The first time they ever made love.

Enduring the unendurable at the hands of the Friends of Humanity. Despising every revolting moment of it. Going along with it to prevent them from causing any harm to Remy.

Exiled from earth, living aboard a starship with their family. The castaways enjoying together a festive Christmas celebration, a celebration which had signaled the advent of better times with Remy, too. Willingly wearing a collar as Remy massaged her back, giving her the experience of touch in a positive way. Feeling the shock and the comfort simultaneously. Her fears starting to thaw, her mind and heart starting to accept his love once more.

Vacationing on a planet referred to as "Paradise." Swimming together nude. Remy whispering, "Gonna make you come so hard tonight." The sensation of pleasurable skin-on-skin contact. A whole new world opening. Remy fulfilling his pledge, several times that night. 

Walking down the aisle on An'zhina, everyone looking at her. Standing next to the man she loved and exchanging vows to last a lifetime.

Cowering together in another FOH cell, the X-men having been captured once again. Remy murmuring soothing words to her and feeling comforted by them.

Sitting in the lab with Hank and hearing the test results. Shaking Remy awake, sharing with him the knowledge that they were to become parents.

***************

Hank McCoy gently shook Jean and Gambit as the monitor made excited noises. "Gambit…Jean….look at these readings. She---she is regaining consciousness!"

Rogue's groggy eyes slowly opened. Gambit looked at the readings to which Hank was gesturng. His heart started racing. 

Later, much later, in the evening, Jean approached her husband. She caressed him in a suggestive manner, inviting him. Somehow, having her consciousness linked with that of Gambit, Jean felt infused with the presence of this most sensual man. Jean's romantic and sexual feelings were for Scott only, but that day Gambit had an effect on her psyche too. Jean joyfully and expressively made love to her very willing husband. It seemed that night that every touch was heightened; Jean drank in Scott. 

******************

Rogue sat on the bed in sick bay, enveloped by Gambit. Well-wishers stopping by would have to wait. Rogue just rocked back and forth in Gambit's arms. She didn't know the full story yet, nor did she want or need to know. Not at this time. Her mind still felt heavy and slow, her usually-invincible body was tired and battered. But both were gradually healing themselves.

"Remy, we're back together. You did it," she murmured. She had an awareness of what he—and Jean---had accomplished inside her mind, and she tried to articulate that she understood. But her weary mind and mouth wouldn't cooperate. 

Gambit was too overwhelmed to smile just then. He simply held her body against his, feeling the love coursing through his body. Someday he would recount to her how he had saved the day, teleporting down to Nari Silara and rescuing Jean. But it almost seemed irrelevant now; there was no need to brag. All he cared about was the fact that Rogue, his Rogue was back.

At some indistinct hour later, Hank gently told the couple that they could leave sick bay. Upon their questioning, he told them that as far as he could tell, the fetus inside Rogue was unharmed. Gambit carried Rogue to the privacy of their room. This solid body belonging to the woman of legendary strength was not yet up to walking down the corridor. When they reached their room, Gambit changed Rogue into her favorite nightgown; it was emerald green and made of satin. He gently brushed her hair; Rogue preferred to have her mane brushed out before bedtime.

Still recovering her strength, Rogue hardly spoke. But after Gambit turned off the light, able to relax his exhausted body at long last too, Rogue whispered to him. "You were there the whole time. I felt you."

She wanted to add "I love you," but her strength failed again and she needed to rest. It didn't matter that the words weren't spoken that night. He knew it.

******************

Hank watched Gambit and Rogue leave sick bay, Rogue being carried in Gambit's arms. Undying love, he observed. Love strong enough to draw someone out of a coma, strong enough to bring someone back from the brink. 

Hank bit his lip and returned to the deserted sick bay. Feeling very alone, he sat back down at his chair with the wheels on it and continued the work he had left at his computer.

*****************

Dani Moonstar's communicator sounded. She almost didn't hear it; sitting inside Storm's room, she and the Wind Rider had been playing their flutes together.

"That was my communicator, wasn't it?" Dani asked, her tone displaying her complete lack of enthusiasm. They both knew who was likely calling.

She pressed a button. "Hello?"

"It's Marrow." An awkward pause. "Let's have dinner together."

"Sure." Dani never argued with Marrow or tried to turn down her requests. Nor did she ever pretend to be ill. She was here to do a job, and when she returned to the X-men, she wanted it to never be said that she had not held up her end of the bargain. 

"How about now?"

Although she would not refuse Marrow's requests, Dani did have room to maneuver a bit. "Well, Storm and I are in the middle of a practice session. Flute playing. And I'm not really hungry yet." Dani was not one to be dictated by a clock---not by a long shot---but she could swear that she just finished lunch a few hours ago.

"Well, beep me when you're ready, okay?"

"Okay."

As soon as the communicator was shut off, Moonstar looked at Storm and they resumed their playing, starting from the beginning of the song which had been interrupted. They didn't say anything to each other about the conversation with Marrow. They had already talked it out a hundred times, and what more could be said? Storm closed her eyes as she resumed playing, and swallowed her guilt.

Later, Marrow and Dani sat across from each other in Marrow's room. Marrow had replicated one of Dani's favorite types of wine. This was not lost on Dani. Moonstar herself had access to a food replicator, of course; she could (and did) replicate the wine whenever she wanted to. But Marrow wasn't renowned for picking up on the details or for her sensitivity. Yet she'd noticed that Dani really liked this particular wine, with its woody taste.

Dani couldn't figure Marrow out. 'She seems like she really really likes me. It's endearing in a perverse kinda way,' she told herself. 

"Have you ever had a massage?" Dani asked. The question jumped into her head and she decided to ask it. Sometimes they went for long stretches without talking, and that was okay with Dani, but she didn't really like to eat in stony silence either.

"You mean like….where someone rubs your back or somethin'?"

"Yeah, that's kind of what it's like. Someone skilled at it can do more than just rubbing your back, but that's the general idea."

Marrow was silent. "You haven't ever had one, have you?" Dani asked. Sometimes you would ask Marrow a question and you really had to prompt her to get a reply. 

"Nope."

"So, do you want one?" Moonstar asked.

More silence. Dani then prodded, "I know you don't like to be touched too much. But you might like this. If you don't, we can stop it."

"What about my bones?"

"I can massage around them. Unless you think there might be some benefit for me trying to massage them." Dani took a bite of her replicated steak and chewed thoughtfully. "You do get some sensation from your bones, don't you?" Marrow had that small protruding bone in the neighborhood of her groin which she frequently penetrated Dani with. As far as Dani could tell, Marrow's closed-eye grunts seemed to mean she enjoyed what she did; the guttural noises she made seemed to indicate an orgasm.

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, I could try to massage them too."

Marrow was quiet for a few moments. "They're rough. They might hurt your hands."

"It's okay. Feel how rough my hands are," Moonstar said, extending a hand. Marrow touched it briefly, and then held on for longer. No matter how much hand lotion Dani used, her hands were dry. Descended from generations of women and men who worked with their hands, Dani would never have the finely manicured nails and smooth hands of a wealthy lady. Her Navajo mother had had arthritis in both hands at the time of her death, when she was in her forties.

"Okay," Marrow said. "But I gotta be in the right mood before you touch me."

She didn't elaborate any further as to what it might take to get her in the mood. Marrow simply wolfed down the remainder of her dinner. Dani tried to keep pace with her. Not being a fan of sweets, Dani had no dessert but she watched as Marrow devoured her favorite – a mint crème bar.

"Go ahead and lay on your stomach," Dani gestured to the bed, once dinner had been put away and Marrow had unceremoniously discarded her clothing. 

"Don't got much of a choice about that," Marrow said, referring to having to lay face-down. She had several bones protruding from her back, and a few on one side now. She could wrench them off when they got to be too much of a nuisance, but removing them caused pain too and Marrow wasn't yet fully immune.

"Ow!" Marrow yelped, at the first touch of Dani's hands. 

"Sorry," Dani apologized. This was not the first time that Dani had touched Marrow in a "wrong" way. She never knew when Marrow would recoil at which particular touch.

"How's this?" Dani asked. She took one hand and laid it, unmoving, on a spot on Marrow's back.

"Yeah, that's okay."

Marrow's first massage was a trial-and-error experience for Dani. Marrow got a great deal of enjoyment from having her bones stroked. Dani rubbed each and every one of Marrow external bones, provoking several squawks of pleasure. Bare skin was another matter---Marrow was overly sensitive in some spots; in others, it seemed she had no sense of sensation at all. Touching Marrow's neck and ears had always caused pain, but Dani learned that if she approached in just the right way, Marrow was okay with it. She liked having her feet rubbed too.

Marrow made another groaning sound, and Dani noticed that she was spreading her legs. The massage had aroused her. Perhaps disoriented from the massage, Marrow attempted to lay on her back. She squealed unpleasantly, jolted back to reality, when her bones made contact with the bed unevenly. 

"Here," Dani whispered. She brought her fingers to Marrow's groin area and boldly touched her. Marrow had to settle for an awkward position, akin to crouching on all fours. But she let Dani touch her, more than she ever had. Dani brought Marrow to a climax, after which Marrow gave her a kiss that could only be described as exuberant. 

Dani couldn't say why---there was certainly no logical reason---but after that night, she started to view Marrow differently. Before, Marrow had been like a thick, unctuous cough syrup that Dani had no choice about having to ingest; she was an illness or a broken leg that Dani was forced to put up with. Now she was more of a wounded dog. Or an awkward and handicapped young woman, Dani thought (though she cautioned herself about misusing words that described the disabled.)

Dani began to shift from her indifferences to something akin to sympathy – or perhaps empathy.

************

"Can you believe it? Rogue's back to normal!"

Jubilee sat on the sofa across from the one occupied by Bobby. They were in the rec room, with Rory and Charlotte playing on the floor, in between them. 

"It's amazing when you think about it," Bobby replied. "Yesterday she was in a coma and now she's…she's up and around."

A few hours ago, Jubilee had been in the gym to witness a friendly argument between Rogue and Wolverine. Rogue insisted she was ready to join the team training sessions, while Wolverine passionately pleaded for her to take a day of bed rest. Gambit and Cyclops ended up agreeing with Wolverine, and Rogue had finally backed down. Rogue had truly been in good spirits during the disagreement and, as everyone had surmised, it was the look on Gambit's face which had convinced her to take it easy for the day.

"Okay, sugar," Rogue had called sweetly to Gambit, "I'll be waitin' for you in the bedroom then."

Several good-natured giggles had ensued from the rest of the X-men who were milling about the gym and waiting for the session to begin. (Even though most surmised that Rogue had truly been referring to taking a nap. But still, as Jubilee said, "It sounded funny.")

"I heard she even apologized to Kurt, Wolvie, and Jean," Jubilee added to Bobby in the rec room. "For what happened on the planet."

"They would have none of it, I'm sure?" Bobby asked.

"Oh, of course. They knew what happened wasn't her fault, and they knew that **she** knew deep down too."

"That's good. The last thing we need is an angst about the mission." Bobby paused. "It happened, it's over. Let's move on."

"Is that how you feel, really? I mean, about the mission in general, and us leaving Nal---what's it called?--- Nali Silara?" Jubilee asked. 

"Nari Silara, I think," Bobby corrected. "I dunno, Jubilee. I really feel bad for what we did to the planet---leaving our shuttle and then this…weird Dagron guy discovering space travel because of it. It's pretty serious stuff and it freaks me out. But I guess I'm of the mindset that if we keep interfering, we keep doing even more damage. Better just to leave it alone and keep from messing it up even more."

"I guess I agree," Jubilee said. She would have to honestly admit that she didn't feel strongly one way or the other about the mission. She was glad that Rogue and Jean were safe and they were one team again. 

Then Jubilee decided to just ask it. They were alone in the rec room, aside from the children, and the rec room rarely remained so minimally-occupied. Who knew when they'd get another chance alone?

"Can I ask you a question, Bobby?"

"You can ask me anything, Jubilee; you know that," Bobby answered, with a smile.

Jubilee knew that. She also knew—and liked---that Bobby really didn't seem to mind opening up about things. What a refreshing change from Wolverine! She wondered if the time Bobby had spent in therapy had helped him to be so open. He was always okay with talking about his feelings. She loved the fact that you could joke around and act serious with him one moment, and discuss your innermost feelings the next. Sam didn't open up as easily as Bobby either, though he was far better than Wolverine.

"When you were in San Francisco, you had a boyfriend, right? A guy you were with for a while?"

"Yeah, Michael," Bobby replied, supplying his ex's name. "We were together for three years. Lived together for some of that time too."

"You broke up before you rejoined the X-men, right?" Upon seeing Bobby's nod, Jubilee asked, "Why did you break up?"

Bobby shrugged. "I used to tell myself it was because he was uncomfortable that I was a mutant. But I think that's a lie---it's not like that ever came up in conversation much, and I don't think he really cared about that. Despite all the shit going on with FOH coming to power, we hardly ever talked about that stuff---Michael was never big on current events." He paused and said with a sigh, "You know, there wasn't one big traumatic event that broke us up or anything like that. It was like…towards the end, we were more like friends who occasionally slept together. I loved him, but I didn't love him any more than I loved, say, Hank or any of the other friends I'd had. Um…I hate to sound like I'm in a soap opera, but I'd say that in the end I wasn't **in** love with him anymore, and he felt the same. So we talked about it and we agreed to break it off."

"Was that your first real relationship?" She was leaning forward in her seat, listening ardently.

"Yeah, pretty much. The first one that lasted more than a month or two, anyway." He looked like he was about to elaborate, but stopped himself. He then turned to Jubilee and smiled, "So like….why are you asking this? I mean, I'm just curious---I don't mind talking about it. But this topic sure came from out of nowhere."

Jubilee froze, fearing that her motive was transparent. She'd had that good talk with Wolverine and wanted to keep her doubts about being with Sam confined there. Wolverine would never divulge it to anyone else. Bobby might---not out of any mean-spiritedness---but Bobby's nature was to talk, and gossip was not unknown to him.

"Just curious," Jubilee shrugged. "You and Northstar look so solid, I'd be bummed if anything happened to you two."

Thankfully for Jubilee, Bobby became distracted by thoughts of his lover. "Yeah, I'm not too worried right now. I think we're actually more in love now than ever," he said dreamily. "We're more in synch than we've ever been."

"That's so cool!" Jubilee enthused. 

***********

Rogue's healing occurred rapidly, as expected. Two days after rising from the coma, she was training with the team. Her fighting skills were nearly up to par. And mentally she was the same person she always had been. 

After the morning training session, she and Gambit sat crammed into the captain's chair during Gambit's bridge duty shift. They didn't talk a lot; mostly they cuddled, looking into each other's eyes. They silently gazed at each other for a long, long time. Rogue allowed her thinking mind to shut down and just lost herself in Gambit's passionate, fiery eyes.

It was some of the most incredible foreplay Rogue had ever experienced. 

Gambit looked at Rogue, mesmerized. The depth of caring and reserves of strength in her eyes enthralled him. He looked at her mouth with its determination. The woman he held in his arms was the same strong, sassy spirit he'd known when they first met. Since they relived all those memories together so recently, they were fresh on Remy's mind. Rogue looked slightly older than she had when he first met her, but her beauty had not faded. And she was now a happier, more mature, more loving person than ever.

A hand briefly caressed her midsection; Gambit was awed that she carried their child. He still harbored his ambivalence about the prospect of fatherhood, but it did not mean that he wasn't pleased as well. Together, they had done something common and ordinary, but wondrous too.

Rogue moaned at his touch. "This is intense, Remy. Just sittin' here lookin' at you is intense," she whispered. 

"I know, chere." And he did know. After having been in each other's minds so intimately, he had to know. 

"I wanna make love to you so badly now." Rogue had still been recovering her strength the past two days.

"Me too." He smiled.

"You got that look in your eyes, sugar," she said, commenting on his smile.

"Jus' remembrin' one time when we stranded on the Paradise Planet, an' we make love on the bridge. Anyone couldda walked in at any time."

Rogue smiled at the memory. "That was so sexy. I still feel sexy with you, but today I wanna make love to feel even closer to you. Emotionally."

"I know."

"It's like I want you inside me. I wanna envelope you. I want us as close as we can git."

"I want dat too." Remy eyed his timepiece. "We still got hours left on dis shift," he said, confirming what they both knew. "Maybe it best to jus' let it simmer. Even dough I want you right now."

"Yeah….you're right. We can't do it while you're on duty." The disappointment in Rogue's voice tore at Remy's heart.

  
Moments later they were ripping their clothing off, adjusting the angle of the main space monitor, and turning up the sensors' volumes. Rogue lay down on her back on the cold metal floor. "Here," Gambit said, "Lay on dis duster," he said, handing her the full-length jacket that he still wore often.

"You want it dis way, chere?" Remy asked quietly, tenderly as she positioned herself on top of his duster. "You don't always cum in dis position."

"It's okay." She reached one hand and opened her lips to him. "I'm so wet right now I don't think it matters. I want you inside me right now."

Remy, who couldn't explain why he was trembling, lowered himself down to the floor. As soon as he was inside her, he kissed her deeply and slowly, keeping his hips still. He kept on kissing her, slowly. Rogue kissed him back and thrust her hips up at him. She then wrapped her legs around his lower body, and reached her arms around him as best as she could. 

When their lips and tongues weren't engaged and wrapped around each other's, they just looked into each other's eyes as they thrust together slowly. Rogue's eyes started to fill with tears. Remy looked at them and understood that they were not tears of sadness. He kissed the salty tears.

The lovers did hear the door open – and quickly close---at one point, but neither broke eye contact. 

Afterwards, they put their clothing back on and set the monitors and sensors back to normal. Remy sat again on the captain's chair, Rogue in his lap. She soon feel asleep.

***************

Northstar had spotted an old deck of cards on the floor of the Danger Room. It was unlike Gambit to forget or misplace anything, but he was sure that the cards belonged to Gambit. Who else owned a deck? The X-men did keep a few in the rec room, but odds were that a deck of cards found outside of there belonged to the Cajun. Northstar thought he remembered, last time he checked the schedule, that Gambit would be on bridge duty now. A quick check of the schedule confirmed that. He seized the deck and headed for the bridge. 

As soon as Northstar spotted the lovemaking on the bridge, he immediately turned and left the vicinity.

`Wow, that Gambit. Making love to Rogue while he's on duty,' Northstar mused as he walked down the hallway. He admired it. He and Bobby had never done so, as arousing as the idea was. It didn't really compromise the safety of the ship, Northstar justified – nothing ever happened during bridge duty anyway. But if Cyclops ever found Northstar and Iceman making love during one of their shifts, he'd kill them. 'Cyclops would probably kill Rogue and Gambit too, if he found out. He'd kill Bobby and I more though.'

It wasn't the first time Jean-Paul had glimpsed Gambit in the nude – the tantalizing glances he'd taken when the X-men had to share group showers had been the first. But it was the first time he'd seen Gambit in action, and that had been thrilling, even though his view had lasted a mere second or two. Remy had been engrossed in the loving, moving slowly and tenderly. It made sense, Northstar thought, given what the couple had just been through. He envisioned Gambit as a very versatile lover---capable of trying new and inventive things, and also a lover completely present in the moment, romantic, gentle, ultra _ultra _sensual. But also sexy, rough, aggressive, and focussed on gratification when appropriate, too.

'I know, I know,' Jean-Paul told himself. 'I've been thinking way **too much** about what Gambit would be like as a lover.' He had to cut it out, he knew. 

`Maybe the problem is that I haven't told anyone. Maybe if I talk about it, it will disappear; I'll stop thinking about it and it won't be such a big deal anymore.' But he didn't feel that he could tell Bobby. He didn't want to hurt his feelings and he knew he wouldn't ever actually sleep with Gambit, so what would be the point? Telling his lover would succeed in only disturbing Bobby. 

'Maybe Kurt. I could tell him.' Northstar liked their therapy sessions. He trusted Nightcrawler and believed that the monk would never betray his confidences---or anyone else's. He played with the idea and it started to sound better and better. 'I'll get it off my chest and maybe then I'll stop thinking about Gambit that way.'

*****************

Wolverine took the bridge for his shift. He pointedly sniffed the air, disgusted with Gambit and Rogue for putting the ship and crew at risk like this while on duty. It wasn't the first time he'd smelled sex on the bridge and it probably would not be the last either. `We're gonna get ourselves killed if people keep doin' shit like this on the bridge.'

****************

Several members of the crew had decided to use the holodeck to watch a movie. Assembled in the darkened holodeck in front of the big screen that evening were Jean, Rogue, Cannonball, Jubilee, Wraith, and Jeanne-Marie. Cyclops was to join them, but he deferred in favor of babysitting. Christopher had been under the weather lately, so Scott had decided upon a laid-back evening with his children in lieu of the movie.

Jean was disappointed that she'd been unable to persuade Hank to join them. The brilliant man was ensconced in his laboratory, as always. One rarely saw him now if one didn't make a specific effort by visiting him in the lab. With Rogue out of her coma, Jean wondered what Hank was so diligently working on now. No matter what it was, she thought that a small mental diversion could only help him.

The group munched on popcorn and assorted sweets as they watched the Endarian film. A lot of Endarian movies were not quite comprehendible to the X-men. The Endarians had a completely different culture and the X-men, therefore, lacked the cultural context to make sense of the films. Usually, they couldn't understand the metaphors, the references, or the background of Endarian films and therefore movies from Endaria were never a big hit on board Freedom. This film, however, was much more easily digestible. It was a straightforward heroes-versus-villains flick, starring a swashbuckling protagonist.

Rogue watched the movie with a smile on her face. Although the male lead's face bore no resemblance to Gambit's, he reminded her of the Cajun. The movie's hero was caped, sexy, and stealthy and he had a murky past. Rogue watched the agile way he moved and remembered how she had felt when Gambit first joined the X-men – and how she still felt to this day. 

After the movie finished, Cannonball and Jubilee soon left the holodeck and Wraith had to head for his bridge duty shift. 

"I liked that movie! What did you think of it?" Rogue asked Jean and Jeanne-Marie, the only two who remained in the room. 

Jeanne-Marie shrugged. "A little harmless escapism never hurt anyone." It was amazing, Rogue speculated, how condescending Jeanne-Marie could sound -- especially when there was no reason for it. Rogue reminded herself to be kind and that perhaps Jeanne-Marie did not intend to come off so haughty. 

"I liked it too. It was fluff," Jean allowed with a smile, looking at Rogue. "But it was fun fluff. And the hero was quite good-looking." She quickly added, "Nowhere near as good-looking as Scott, of course."

Rogue smiled at seeing this other side of Jean. Jean used to do that on earth. If she ever commented on a male public figure as being attractive, she would always hasten to add that the man was not as handsome to her as Scott was. Rogue hadn't had occasion to hear Jean make such a remark for years and it brought back some memories.

"He was nice to look at," Jeanne-Marie allowed. "I saw both of you---and Jubilee---drooling over him. But I think that deep down most women don't want a man like him in the long run. He was sexy and dashing and all that, but you know a man like that is going to cheat on you. I think most women," Jeanne-Marie gave a sideways glance towards Jean, "want to settle down with Mr. Dependable. Someone reliable and boring who will be a good father. A man like the one in the movie is good for a fantasy but he's not husband material."

Jeanne-Marie left soon afterwards, and Rogue and Jean exchanged a look. "What's her deal?" Rogue's tone belied that she was none too pleased.

Jean sighed. "I think that's just Jeanne-Marie for you. I try to cut her some slack. She did lose her husband and she's been through a lot. But still." Jean bit her tongue to keep from saying more. Jeanne-Marie had indeed endured quite a lot during the past few years, and Jean felt sympathy for her. But on a personal level, she never had cared for Jeanne-Marie's company much. Jean also fleetingly remembered an incident on An'zhina when Jeanne-Marie's bratty son had actually hit Charlotte. 

"Yeah, but…." Rogue began a thought, but decided against verbalizing it. 'Of course,' she said to herself, 'Jean's used her telepathy on me so much and so recently that maybe she read my mind anyway.' 

Walking down the corridors back to her room, Rogue couldn't shake the conversation that had just occurred. She knew that all during the film, she had been comparing the male lead to Gambit; she had seen some of the qualities that she found so attractive in Gambit. But could Jeanne-Marie be right? Was a man like that just destined to cheat?

`No,' Rogue told herself. `He waited a year for me to be ready to sleep with him when we first got together. And he waited forever again after those FOH bastards attacked me.' But then the nay-saying voice in the back of her mind countered, 'Course he waited forever. He didn't have a choice. There weren't any other women there that he was about to sleep with.'

'But he **did** have a choice that first time, back at the mansion, when we were first gittin' together!' she reminded herself. There had been plenty of women on earth who would've slept with Gambit at the drop of a hat. Yet he refrained; he stayed away from them as he waited for Rogue.

Rogue's fears, however, retorted, 'Well, just wait till he's a Daddy. When that baby comes, everythin's gonna change.'

"Shut up!" Rogue said aloud, startling herself. She guiltily looked around and, relieved, saw that no one else was in the hallway to hear her outburst. She then said to herself, `I'm happy with my relationship with Remy. Jeanne-Marie's a damn fool and why the hell am I givin' anything she says a second thought?'

Rogue wondered if other people carried on conversations with themselves like this. She missed Storm greatly.

*****************

Northstar entered the rec room and found who he was looking for. Gambit played a card game with Wolverine and Shaman, and Northstar walked up to the table.

"Is this yours?" he asked, setting Gambit's worn deck of cards down on the table next to him. 

"Dere it is! One of my favorite decks. Where did you find it?" Gambit asked. 

"Danger Room. Earlier today."

"Merci, mon ami," Gambit said, meeting Northstar's eyes briefly. 

"You want us to deal you in?" Wolverine asked Northstar.

"No." He looked around the rec room, which was atypically deserted, other than the four men. "Where is everyone?"

"Many are on the holodeck, watching a movie," Shaman said. 

"Ah, yes," Northstar said, remembering the announcement. "I don't care for those Endarian films. They might as well be in Greek. I cannot ever figure them out."

"Me neither," Wolverine grumbled.

Northstar then seated himself by one of the computers, amusing himself with a computer game. Later, when the card game had finished, Gambit approached him. "Did you try to return dis during my bridge shift?" the Cajun asked, his voice quiet and low. He held the card deck. 

Northstar noticed that Wolverine had left the room; only Shaman remained now --- on the other side of rec room, apparently immersed in a book. "Yes. I left as soon as I saw what was going on."

Gambit looked at Northstar. The Cajun liked attention; there was no doubt about that, and he'd known from a while that the Quebecer found him attractive. It was flattering, definitely. Remy's peacock side wouldn't turn down attention from anyone.

"Dat's good," he said, his voice remaining kind. For a second, Gambit considered adding that he and Rogue had been careful and Freedom had been in no real danger but he decided against justifying himself. Besides, he could tell that Northstar wouldn't hold it against him. `He and Bobby probably did dat before anyway.' "Well, t'anks again for the cards."

"_Pas de quoi_." 

They left it at that. Gambit returned to his room, feeling uncharacteristically tired so early in the evening. He was glad to see Rogue inside the room, waiting for him.

"We've been through a lot," Rogue said, playing with his hair after he yawned expressively. "No wonder you're tired so early." They sat on the bed together, Gambit reclining against Rogue. It was still early enough in her pregnancy that he was able to lean on her in this manner. She was several months away from "showing", and he wasn't putting his weight on her anyway.

"Past few days been busy. You were amazin' in dat Danger Room again, chere. No one would know dat you were in a coma two days ago."

"I hope our baby will be as strong as I am," she said. She added, "And I hope he'll be like you too---heroic, carin', lovin'….with amazin' intelligence an' skill. 'Cept I don't know if any other person can have so many incredible qualities like you."

"Aww, chere. You so sweet to me." And he knew that she meant every word she said. He knew it before, too, but since they'd been in each other's minds so intimately, he now fully understood and internalized her adoration of him to a degree greater than ever before. Never had he been so loved before in his life.

"Remy, can I ask you a question?" Her voice was serious and a bit nervous.

"Chere, you know dat you can ask whatever you want."

"You ever miss havin' so many women?" She asked the question delicately and with only the faintest note of fear in her tone.

He hesitated, not out of uncertainty to the answer but rather because he wondered what might have precipitated the question. He felt so secure in their relationship, now more than ever before. It disturbed him to think that she perhaps wasn't on the same wavelength. He turned around to face her, looking into her eyes. "No. I don't miss it and I love you more den anyone else in my life. You the only one for me." He spoke the truth, as he always did to Rogue. He didn't regret his many experiences with women before Rogue, but he had no desire to stray from her.

Rogue closed her eyes and nodded. "I knew that," she said, partially to herself. 

"Why did you ask the question? I feel so secure wit' you…wit' us. More den ever before. I t'ought dat you feel the same." He expressed his confusion tenderly and without sounding accusatory. But he didn't try to mask his disappointment.

"I do. I really do," Rogue insisted, reaching for the side of his face and caressing his bristly cheek. "It's just that….this is gonna sound silly." But she decided to share it with him anyway. She had told him a little about the Endarian movie earlier, but she now shared her likening of Gambit to the movie's hero, and she told him of Jeanne-Marie's comments. 

Once the words were out of her mouth, they laughed about the scenario. "I guess it's crazy," Rogue admitted. "Jeanne-Marie sounded so serious 'bout a man like that cheatin.' I dunno why I even listened to her-----what's she know anyway?"

"She don't know anyt'ing 'bout dis," Gambit said, smiling along with Rogue. He liked Northstar but would have to admit that he didn't care much for Northstar's sister. She usually kept to herself and had never made any effort to really become a member of the team. He knew that Jeanne-Marie had been through hell and he wouldn't begrudge her having her own space, but Gambit couldn't help but to notice that Northstar and Bobby seemed to be the only two that Jeanne-Marie spent any time with. He also knew that his indifference to her was shared by most of the team. 

Thoughts of Jeanne-Marie soon flew from his mind. Gambit looked at Rogue's smiling face and knew that she truly understood his fidelity now.

******************

TO BE CONTINUED

And a note to readers:

__

As some of you might have noticed, the love scenes in this fic so far have been kinda tame compared to the love scenes in my previous two books. What do you think about that? Are you missing the longer, more explicit love scenes? Or are you alright with how things are now? Do you have a burning desire (sorry….couldn't resist) to see more explicit love scenes and, if so, which couples? Let me know and I shall do my best to fulfil your desires (sorry…I'll stop with the puns now.) **Please send any thoughts and feedback to stormkpr@usa.net**


	18. Chapter 18

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

A note from the author: I heard your feedback loud and clear. I promise more love scenes! I don't have any (long) ones this time since this chapter was already written, but I promise more in the future. 

__

Second note from the author: Don't miss the quiz at the end of this chapter!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

******************

We continued on towards earth. I wondered what we'd find when we reached this troubled planet. Would we come across any more interference from traitor mutants like Emma Frost? Would Jean be able to successfully use her telepathy to change the minds of those who ruled earth? Could we make a difference or would it end up being another drop-in-the-bucket mission? Worse yet, would we have another disaster mission? We'd had more than our share of those, as I knew only too well having suffered greatly during our two worst ones. 

Even as these lofty questions rushed through my mind, I knew most everyone on board the ship eagerly awaited our return to earth as well. It had been a long time since we'd been near our home planet. As messed up as it was, I think all of us gravitated there to an extent. We might be in exile, but it was still our place of origin. I guess I can't really use the term "home" though.

Family reasons were a big part of why we looked forward to getting back to earth, I think. Cannonball spoke of his parents and sister all the time; he obviously couldn't wait for Freedom to enter telepathic range, so that Jean could touch their minds. He even spoke about the possibility of bringing them to An'zhina (as Jean herself had done with her family.) Cyclops and Jean assured Sam that if the opportunity presented itself (and if, obviously, the Guthries wanted it), they would be glad to drop Freedom's shields for a few seconds so that Sam's family could be beamed aboard.

Jeanne-Marie was becoming more and more anxious as we approached earth. She spoke about her son Stephan. These last few weeks had been the only time I'd heard her speak of her son in a very long while. I knew she thought of him all the time though. I asked Jean-Paul for his thoughts on the matter, and he said he knew his sister was both looking forward to and dreading getting in touch with Stephan again. (Even though the only contact Jeanne-Marie expected they would have would involve Jean Grey doing a telepathic check-in.) 

"She talks about Stephan a lot with me. And it's not going to be good when they make contact, mon amour," Jean-Paul told me. "All that we know is that FOH took him. They probably either are raising him in one of their youth camps or maybe with an FOH member's family."

"Or it could be worse," I began glumly. "They might have decided to kill him. Even though he's not a mutant, his mother is."

"There is that possibility too," he admitted. "But whatever they did with him, when he left, he didn't love Jeanne-Marie. He hated her. I am certain that has not changed."

"Is she….is she expecting that?" I asked gingerly. "I mean, she's not like expecting that all of a sudden he's going to have had a change of heart, is she?"

"No, no, I do not think so. When I last asked her about it, she said that she would be happy if he was alive and well. It's all she can hope for. She knows that."

But still, Jeanne-Marie seemed more anxious and out of it than usual. She'd been through a lot in her life, but she seemed more off-kilter than I'd seen her in a while. One day when I relieved her from her bridge duty shift, she was actually napping in the captain's chair! (I guess I should've said something to someone about that. But I didn't. She and Jean-Paul would rage at me if I'd told Cyclops. I gently started to bring it up with Jeanne-Marie herself but she clearly didn't wish to discuss it. What can I say? I tend to play computer games and/or zone out on my bridge shifts. Staring at a monitor for hour after hour will do that to you.) 

One day I approached her and mentioned that it looked like she wasn't in the best of spirits, and asked if I could do anything to help. She politely thanked me but declined my offer. I related the incident to Jean-Paul and he wasn't surprised. "You just have to accept her when she's in one of these moods," he would say. "If she wants to talk about it, she will bang on my door at 2 a.m. and we will talk then. That's the way her mind works." Jean-Paul said those words but in all the time that he and I had shared a room (which had been a while now) I sure didn't recall any late night/early morning visits from Jeanne-Marie. Of course who knew what went on while I slept?

There's one interesting thing I should mention. One day I was on bridge duty as Cyclops, Rogue, and Wolverine studied star maps. They were like checking our position in space. I was only vaguely listening to them, but I did hear Rogue say, "Ain't that where the Paradise Planet is?"

Cyclops confirmed it. En route back to earth, we'd be passing through the solar system of the Paradise Planet. There was talk at the gym and at the dinner table of stopping down at that wonderful planet again, but no one seriously brought it up to Cyclops. In truth, as much as I'd love another vacation there, it would be too indulgent for us to stop and vacation again when we had work to do on earth. Besides, there were those like Hank who were eager for this mission to end and not about to willingly waste a week. 

Those who discussed the idea of taking a break on the Paradise Planet talked about the possibility of bringing it to the team on our way back from the mission, depending on how the mission went. 

**************

The X-men were approaching an asteroid field. Shaman, on duty that evening, discovered this fact late into his shift and alerted Cyclops. The two discussed the situation and calculated the trajectory of the asteroids. They determined that Freedom was in no danger; a simple course correction would ensure they had no contact with the asteroids. Given that Freedom's path would avoid the asteroids, Cyclops and Shaman determined that there was no need to put the shields up.

After Cyclops left the bridge, Shaman brushed up on his knowledge of asteroids. He learned that they were made out of rock and metal and theorized to be either material that never formed a planet or the remains of an exploded planet. Both theories might be correct, he read. Various forces could cause asteroids to move out of their orbit, and some asteroids move very rapidly. This asteroid field seemed to traverse space quickly. 

Shaman allowed himself a satisfying, deep yawn. He was glad that his shift would be finished in less than a half hour now and he could soon get some sleep. It was Beast's turn for the dreaded night shift this time. 

*************

Hank McCoy labored over his computer in sick bay. With Rogue having recovered, he had no truly urgent matters to research, but he behaved as if he did. His current projects consisted of continuing research into cloaking devices (one never knew when FOH would again develop a means to detect their cloak), AIDS research (Hank hated leaving anything undone), further research into the Euphoria Vapor, and anything else to keep his mind occupied. 

He rose from his chair to retrieve a device, and he noted that his trousers were somewhat loose. Dimly he was aware that he hadn't exactly been visiting the mess hall three times per day during this mission. If he made it there twice a day, it was a rarity now. He paused for a moment and realized that he did, indeed, detect some pangs of hunger. 

Hank's last several sessions in the Danger Room had been less than stunning. He had not slept for more than 35 hours. Laying in bed wide awake was unpleasant; if one were unable to sleep, better to at least be productive in the lab.

His communicator beeped. "This is Beast," he responded.

"It's Shaman."

"Oh my stars! I was supposed to relieve your bridge duty shift, was I not?" Hank checked his timepiece. He was fifteen minutes late. 

He hurried to the bridge and apologized profusely. Shaman briefed him on the asteroid situation. Shaman exited the bridge and Hank sat at the captain's chair.

Hank had brought some of his work with him and cued it up on the computer in front of him. His research had gone off on a tangent and he had been studying stomach illnesses for the last several hours. He smiled absentmindedly at a related memory. One evening, a while before Panda had gotten pregnant, she and Hank had been enjoying a lackadaisical evening together. She was sitting on a chair and he had been kneeling before her. He had gotten the idea to put an ear to her abdomen and listen to the sounds of her body digesting dinner. Panda smiled and shook her head as Hank listened with rapt attention. They started getting silly, and he began to use his voice to imitate the sounds emanating from her digestive system. He vocalized the _whoosh_-ing and the gurgling noises he heard. He remembered Panda collapsing onto the floor with him as they laughed uncontrollably together.

He stared at the viewscreen though his eyes were not focussed. The endless array of white stars against the vast blackness were repetitive and relentless. One could easily drown in it. He used to track the ship's position and proximity to various stars and planets but doing so had not interested him on this mission. Hank began to contemplate the magnitude of his separation from his wife and son. How many solar systems lay between them now? The enormity of their separation would be difficult to determine precisely. He started to calculate the number of weeks that would elapse before he would be home with them, but it was impossible to compute as it hinged on an unknown factor---the success of the X-men's mission. 'I am surrounded by my friends and family, and yet paradoxically I am alone.' Hank tried to focus his mind on reviewing the baby development research he had read. He wondered which stages of his young son's growth he was missing but he found that oddly he could not recall the baby's exact age. Freedom was speeding through space on a clear and direct path, but Hank's mind and thoughts continued to drift aimlessly. Would he and Panda ever be able to bridge the gap separating them? The infinite stars, planets, comets, and asteroids? 

Asteroids.

Suddenly, Hank pitched forward in his seat. The ship began to rock, and a loud explosion sounded. The red alert siren automatically began to wail, waking up the crew. The ship spiraled out of control like a child's toy top.

Hank frantically pressed buttons on the main console, commanding the shields into readiness. He pressed several more buttons to reactivate the ship's stabilizers and, mercifully, they responded. Freedom stopped rocking like an earthquake. Various screens and alerts flashed, indicating hull breaches. Hank's supremely dexterous fingers flew across the keyboards at super-human speed, trying to ensure that emergency back-up systems came on-line.

Several X-men reached the bridge, loud confusion and panic continued, and many shouting voices struggled to be heard over the din. Cyclops brushed Hank aside as he planted himself on the captain's chair, and he told the group to remain calm as he fought for control.

**************

When I got up off the floor, I found Jean-Paul tugging at my arm. "What the hell is going on?" I asked. I had been having a strange dream. I dreamed I was back in San Francisco, except its terrain looked like one of the flat Midwestern areas that I grew up in instead of the hilly, vibrant coastal city. In the dream I was riding along a street, being pulled gently in a wooden cart and both sides of the street had colorful vegetable gardens on both sides. Then everything started to shake and I thought we were having an earthquake, until I woke up and saw that I had been thrown from the bed.

"Let's get to the bridge!" he said, his voice almost at a yell in order to be heard over the red alert siren. He handed me a pair of pants, and I donned them (only later to realize they belonged to Jean-Paul and were too large for me.) He scooped me into his arms and flew me to the bridge at hyper-speed.

When we reached the bridge, it was already crowded and in a condition of near-pandemonium. The ship had stopped rocking but I had no idea what was going on. My eyes got the gray-and-white hazy thing over them as my groggy brain struggled to comprehend the events. 

My first fear was an attack by FOH. A million horrors flashed through my mind, images so terrible that death seemed preferable. But as soon as I understood that we were not in any danger of being captured by FOH again and indeed not under attack at all, I relaxed. In the midst of the panic, I slowly pieced together what was happening from what others were saying. We had been hit by asteroids. Not just regular asteroids, but asteroids that were each no larger than the size of a pea. Our sensors had not detected them, and shields weren't put up in time. 

I soon learned that I should **not** have relaxed upon hearing this news.

The asteroids that hit us may have been no larger than peas, but they were stronger and sharper than bullets ripping through flesh. At the time, we had no estimate of how many of these asteroids hit us but we later guessed it had to have been several thousand. They pierced the hull and ripped through the ship. 

Cyclops divided us into damage control teams, and we sped to our assigned areas of the ship working madly to repair the hull breaches. We looked, I imagine, fairly ridiculous in our various stages of undress. I found the pair of Jean-Paul's pants I wore ridiculously loose but not, fortunately, to the point where they threatened to fall down. I ended up working alongside Jubilee who was dressed in a yellow nightgown with a scooped neckline, and Cannonball who wore naught but his boxers. Sam seemed unselfconscious about it which surprised me – I would've expected him to be more modest. He was definitely focussed on his work. All three of us smelled of sleep and vaguely of sweat, and Jubilee of flowers too; perhaps it was a scented body lotion. I later learned that Jubilee had locked her daughter in her room for the time being---thinking (correctly, I'm sure) it the safest place for her during this chaos.

The damage was not a pretty sight. Various sections of Freedom resembled Swiss cheese. It was as if we'd encountered a strange species of space-rats who had munched holes into our starship. 

I started to get an inkling that the damage was far worse than I'd initially thought. Listening to snippets of conversation over the communicators, I began to grasp the enormity of the wreck. We had managed to save life support and repair the hull breaches, but our engines were badly damaged. I knew the repairs were not going well when more and more people were called to engineering. Cyclops and Hank had the most experience with the engines; on the Paradise planet, the two of them had been members of the team assigned to repair them. But even with our stabilizers functioning and the two most competent crew members working madly on repair, you could tell that the ship was losing altitude. Every now and then I looked out a window and, disoriented as I may have been, could see Freedom dipping. My stomach wavered accordingly. 

I had been running on adrenaline ever since I'd been woken up from my slumber. But it slowly began to ware off as my mind and body realized that the immediate danger was gone. By now my throat was dry and my eyes kept glazing over as my body cried out to resume sleep. Yawn after yawn stretched my lips. When the hull breaches were all repaired, everyone wound up in engineering sooner or later. I remember us standing around solemnly and silently, looking at each other and watching Hank and Cyclops, who were doing most of the work on the engines. The looks on their faces said it all.

Finally, Cyclops and Hank stopped working. They mutely looked at each other. Cyclops shook his head and Hank set down the tool he held in his hand.

"We're gonna have to land the ship," Scott said. "We can't repair the engines."

*****************

So basically, Freedom was taken down by something the size of pebbles. This state-of-the-art starship, capable of warp drive and cloaking, armored with phasers and photon torpedos, able to execute dozens complex functions, was brought to its knees by thousands of objects ---- most of which no larger than a dime.

Since the bridge was way overcrowded, Cyclops asked that all except the field commanders clear it for the time being (though Jean remained on the bridge too.) The rest of us assembled (actually, most of us dozed sporadically) in the conference room nearest the bridge. Periodically we received updates. The leaders wanted to land the ship on the Paradise Planet, but all their estimations indicated we didn't have a chance of making it there---we were still too far away. Jean could use her telekinesis to move Freedom (no small feat) but she said she doubted that she had the ability to get us that far. 

We would have to use our remaining momentum combined with Jean's telekinesis to drift towards the nearest planet with breathable air. Our plan would be to set up shop there and attempt to repair the engines.

Allowing Freedom to just drift through space indefinitely was not an option. By all of Hank's calculations, the engines would continue to corrode and the starship would continue to lose altitude ---- we'd end up "not drifting through space, but rather being buffeted around like the ball in a pinball machine," as Hank put it. 

Months ago, we found ourselves on board Freedom with almost no dilithium left and we set a course for Nari Silara, an unknown planet, to steal some of their dilithium. We now would find ourselves again at the mercy of a completely alien planet. We once again could only dream of what we would encounter there. But for our first trip to Nari Silara, all we had to do was take the dilithium and leave. We had no idea how long we could remain on this new planet. There were whispers that the engine damage was too severe to ever be repaired.

A lot of frightened conversations took place in that conference room as we awaited word from our leaders. "So what are we gonna do when we get to the planet?" Jubilee asked.

"We gotta hope dat Hank and Cyke can fix the engines. They fix 'em before, petit'," Gambit said.

"What if they can't?"  


"We have two shuttles on board this ship," Jean-Paul began, "can't we…..?" he broke off, seeing the look on Nightcrawler's face. Nightcrawler had led the efforts to repair hull damage in the shuttle bay.

"The damage in shuttle bay was severe," he said solemnly. "I don't think the shuttles are salvageable." He sighed. "We can try though."

"But even if we can fix the shuttles, what would we do then?" Hector asked. 

"Well, den at leas' we could send small groups back to An'zhina. We could all get back dere eventually." Gambit paused. "It won't help Freedom 'dough."

"The shuttles don't have enough power to tow Freedom back," I added. 

"So we haveta hope we can fix Freedom," Jubilee concluded. 

Once they emerged from the bridge, most with cups of coffee in their hands, our leaders basically confirmed the dialogue we'd just finished. They felt we had an "excellent chance" (as Cyclops put it) of reaching the nearest planet able to support human life and they projected we would be able to land within 45 hours. The landing would be enormously difficult with the engines so compromised. When we landed, we would work on engine repair and shuttle repair.

"What do we know about this planet?" Jeanne-Marie asked. 

"We can breathe the air," Cyclops said. 

"It's cold," Wolverine added.

"It's also very big. Probably about three times the size of earth," Cyclops added. 

"Are there any inhabitants?" Nightcrawler asked. I held my breath. 

"Yes," Cyclops said. "But hopefully not in the area we'll land."

"Hopefully?" Jubilee asked.

"We're gonna do the best we can to land the ship where we want it," Rogue said. "But we need engine power to do that." She didn't need to add anything more to that. 

"Our landing's going to be pretty touch-and-go," Jean summed up. 

**********************

The sun smiled on another idyllic An'zhinian day. The mutants who made An'zhina their home adored it, playing volleyball games and swimming under its glow. They continued to avail themselves of the many trails and pathways An'zhina offered through its forests, hills, and other natural beauties. One group went on a snorkeling expedition to explore the colorful underground life beneath the crystal waters. During one balmy evening, the Drama Club staged a comedic play outdoors to an audience which soon bellowed with laughter. While being entertained, the audience sipped wine and munched on various treats.

Meanwhile, Panda dozed in her room. Rob hadn't slept much during the night---he woke up twice---leaving Panda to catch up on her sleep when she could. She woke from the fitful, dreamless sleep as the sun began to go down. Her nipples stung from the painful duty of breastfeeding.

"We should visit her, Charles," Moira suggested to Xavier when the evening's play had concluded. Moira walked alongside his hoverchair. "It's not healthy for her to be alone so much."

"Yes," Charles agreed. "Let's go see her now." Panda rarely made public appearances nowadays; one had to go out of ones way to be assured the chance to spend time with her.

Panda did not rise from her chair to greet them. 

"Do you need help with the baby?" Moira asked. She, and others, had made this offer countless times already. Moira was not surprised to be turned down once more.

"Would you like to work with me in the lab?" Moira asked. "We got so far in that AIDS research that I do na want to just let it stop. I am still working on a cure."

Laboratory work reminded Panda of Hank too much. It slapped her in the face, rubbing in the dire fact of her husband's priorities. Besides, Panda didn't have the energy for it.

When Charles and Moira left Panda's room minutes later, the Professor said, "I am going to ask her if she would like to go into counseling with me."

"I wish I knew if she has the usual sort of post-partum depression or if it is indeed something worse."

"That is what I hope to find out. If she agrees to go into counseling with me, we can delve into this even more."

Charles hoped Panda would agree. He certainly had the time now; not many An'zhinians were still in one-on-one counseling sessions with him, though a smattering of support groups still held meetings which he occasionally helped facilitate. And although Xavier had much success with many of the mutants rescued from the FOH camps, his failures would always haunt him. Psylocke stood out in his mind. He had utterly failed with her counseling. Although Xavier had recently helped Northstar deal with cumulative emotional trauma, and before that had worked with Warren on depression, he would never forgive or forget his failure with Psylocke. He hoped to have better luck with Panda ---- assuming she assented to this.

Even more than that, Xavier hoped his X-men would be successful on their mission. The prolonged stay on An'zhina had been just what his soul needed. He felt stronger and more invigorated than ever before and he had decided that he would take part in the X-men's next mission to earth.

'That is,' he told himself, 'if another mission is even needed. Perhaps at this very moment, Jean is using her powers to change the minds of enough people. Perhaps the ripple effect we hoped for is taking place, and life for mutants on earth is already starting to improve.'

****************

Once the X-men's meeting ended, the team gradually dispersed. Cyclops and most of the field commanders headed back for the bridge. Jean Grey went to her room to rest. The ship's landing would heavily depend on her and she wanted to rest up as much as possible. 

The bitter sting of disappointment was felt throughout the ship. The gloom and sense of let-down resonated from one end of Freedom to the other. Instead of reaching earth and making life better for mutants, the X-men were drifting towards an unknown planet where they would remain -- until they managed to repair Freedom's engines. **If** they managed, Bobby silently corrected his thoughts. There was no guarantee; there never was. `We could be stranded for god-knows-how-long,' he thought, as he walked down the hallway. He tried to chase those kinds of thoughts away from his mind. 

`It could always be worse,' he said to himself. `The time we were captured by FOH and they killed Colossus. Tortured Jean-Paul and Storm. Or the time Gambit, Wolverine, and I were captured and forced to work in a mine. Things could always be **way** worse. Besides, at least Jean-Paul's healthy.' Bobby had never felt a more frightening chill than that terrifying day in Hank's lab when they had been informed that Jean-Paul tested positive for HIV. `Yet we side-stepped that landmine, just like we got out of every other scary situation. We always make it.'

Bobby reached Hank's room and knocked on the door. After an unusually long wait, he heard Hank ask, "Who's there?"

"It's Bobby. Can I come in?"

Another pause. The door slid aside and Hank gestured for his friend to enter. 

Hank was sitting on the floor of the room, his blue coat askew in various places. The bleary-eyed scientist observed Bobby sit down next to him.

"Hey big guy….it's not your fault," Bobby began, with heartbreaking sympathy in his voice.

"That is incorrect," Hank said, shrugging off the arm Bobby attempted to place around his shoulders. "It is indeed my fault."

Hank then recounted to Bobby the chain of events that he had repeated to himself silently, countless times already. He looked straight ahead, and not at Bobby, as he spoke. "I became wrapped up in my research and was late for my bridge duty shift. Shaman informed me of the asteroid situation. I did not devote my full attention to him. As soon as Shaman left the bridge, I forgot his words and his warnings, and purged my mind of thoughts of asteroids. I did not even look at the main monitor."

"It's okay. We all make mistakes," Bobby implored.

"It is not simply 'okay.' Such disaster as this cannot be excused. This incident was completely avoidable."

Bobby was quiet for a few moments. He reached around to pat Hank's back. "It was Panda, wasn't it? I mean, Panda and the baby? You're really really depressed without them, aren't you?"

"Yes," Hank admitted quietly, though the way Bobby phrased it wasn't quite apt.

Bobby smacked his own forehead. "I'm such a schmuck. I'm an idiot! I never really realized how depressed you were. And sheesh, you're the guy who saved my life! If it weren't for you, I'd be dead. You're my best friend, and I just haven't been there for you at all. I totally suck!"

Hank solemnly observed Bobby's self-flagellation. Bobby possessed an immaturity that Hank did not; at some level Bobby thought it all revolved around him. Despite everything that had just occurred, Bobby was—in a way---asking Hank to console **him.** Hank patiently waited for Bobby to finish his rant.

"See, this is all my fault!" Bobby concluded. "If I'd been a better friend----"

Hank then used a tone he had probably never before used with his best friend. "Bobby, please," he said coldly. "I absolve you of any and all guilt over this matter. Is that truly why you came here? The guilt and the blame over this belong to me."

Momentarily stunned, Bobby bit his lip. He struggled to keep composure and find words in the face of Hank's anger. He could not recall Hank ever being out-and-out mad at him. He wanted to crawl under the bed in fear, recoiling as he had when either of his caustic parents had railed at him as a child. "I—I'm sorry. I really am. But um, Hank, I really don't think anyone on the team blames you or resents you for this. Everyone makes mistakes. It's not like….like we're dead or captured by FOH. We'll get out of this."

"I failed to perform my duty," he said tonelessly. "Mutants on earth are being tortured and killed. Because of my negligence, the X-men will not be arriving to earth any time in the near future to help relieve their suffering. Possibly, we shall never return." His voice remained flat. "We might be stranded on that planet for the remainder of our lives, assuming we can even reach it and land safely." He spoke with finality.

"Hank, when's the last time you got any sleep? Do you think you oughtta….."

Bobby's voice trailed off as he saw Hank rise to his feet. "Where are you going?" Bobby asked, getting up from the floor as well.

"I am going to speak to Cyclops."

************

The X-men ate a somber lunch. Most had slept only briefly since the chaos of the previous night. Still, the X-men were going forward with their normal routine now. There was really nothing more that they could do right now.

"At least we still have all our dilithium," Jubilee was saying. "I think we got enough that we'll be okay for a long time. Now that was scary, when we lost our dilithium, wasn't it?"

Wolverine chewed his replicated sausage as he watched Jubilee. Her optimism was sincere, he knew. He'd always liked that trait of Jubilee's. He wasn't thrilled with the turn of events that had unfolded, but he wasn't about to mourn them either. He had learned that sometimes, as much as you hated to admit doing so, you had to roll with the punches. The X-men had been thwarted before and had found a way around it; Logan felt fairly confident that they would do so again this time.

He just hoped that whatever happened, Freedom's engines would be repaired within a reasonable amount of time. The absence of Storm continued to gnaw at him. It wasn't just their lovemaking that he missed----though his body now intensely craved sex ----but he missed her presence as well. He missed everything about Storm: holding her during the dancing lessons he'd agreed to take, laughing with her over Rory's antics, sharing some bittersweet memory from their years in the trenches as X-men. This detour had the potential to lengthen his separation from Storm, and he regretted that more than almost anything else. 

The others at the table voiced agreement with Jubilee. The X-men would have to take this set-back in stride, as they did with the other obstacles thrown in their direction over the years.

Hank entered the mess hall. Earlier, he had attempted to catch up on sleep but had succeeded only in losing consciousness for less than an hour. Hank now approached the table, noting that – fortunately -- most of the X-men were there. Only Rogue, Gambit, and Shaman were missing. 

He stood alongside the table until the various conversations died down and all turned their attention to him. He avoided Bobby's sorrowful eyes and spoke. "I wish to apologize. To all of you." The room was silent, other than Hank's voice. He had the rapt attention of his peers. "My negligence caused us to become mired in this predicament. I apologize for my heedlessness. I will not attempt to make excuses for my behavior. I only beg your forgiveness." He had placed a hint of emphasis on the word "beg."

"Oh, Hank," Jean said, springing up from her seat and hugging him. Charlotte followed her mother and clasped her arms around the furry leg of her beloved uncle. Hank's arms remained at his sides; he did not return the hug.

Earlier, Hank had approached Cyclops and told him that he wished to resign his position as field commander, stating that he did not deserve it. Scott refused to accept the resignation and asked Hank that they discuss the situation later, once more time had passed and they had more distance from the situation. Reluctantly, Hank had agreed.

Hank then forced himself to listen to the platitudes offered by the rest of his teammates. "It's okay," "It wasn't your fault," "We'll get through this," "We don't blame you." He thought that perhaps he now possessed empathy for what Northstar may have experienced that day – it seemed so long ago now, though it truly wasn't -- when he had stood before the team and revealed his HIV positive status. A flurry of clichés had been uttered then, too.

'But Northstar was not to blame for his predicament. And his HIV status did not directly impact the lives of his teammates the way my error has,' Hank told himself. 

Hank endured the hugs and kind words of his teammates. After issuing another apology, he excused himself and promptly left the room.

****************

That evening, I was sitting on the floor of my room with Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie. We were finishing our dinner, playing CDs in the background, and drinking some booze that we'd replicated on An'zhina and had brought on our journey. None of us were really big drinkers, but we thought we'd have a little get-together --- mainly to mark the consumption of our last alcoholic beverages. (Anything for a little party, I guess.) The whole team had met in a conference room sometime after lunch, and Cyclops announced that we would have to go back to using only the bare minimum of dilithium. We had a pretty sizable supply now, but we didn't know how long we'd be waylaid on that planet and we had to conserve. So alcohol and other non-essentials wouldn't be replicated anytime soon.

I didn't disagree with Cyclops either. The restrictions made sense. So, that evening, the three of us poured the contents of our last wine bottle into wine glasses as we sat around listening to CDs replicated on An'zhina. Use of the holodeck was now, of course, suspended but fortunately the CD player required only a miniscule amount of dilithium and therefore was permissible.

"Bobby, relax. He will get over it," Jeanne-Marie said, her words slurred. I'd lost count of the number of times she'd poured from that bottle into her glass, and her cheeks were flushed. 

"Hank is a strong man, amour," Jean-Paul said, "you know that."

"I know. But I never saw him looking the way he did at lunch." Or, I silently added, sounding the way he had in his room before then. I was still disturbed from witnessing Hank so angry, and I'd not approached my best friend since then. 

"He probably will be…depressed for a while. But I am sure that he can overcome it," Jean-Paul said. "Once he sees that no one blames him, he will be fine."

"I sure hope so," I mumbled. It wasn't so much his guilt I was worried about as it was the fact that he'd been so depressed and no one had apparently noticed. I guess I'd never really known how much the separation from Panda and Rob was hurting him. How could I have been so neglectful of my best friend? 

"I do not blame Hank for what happened," Jeanne-Marie began, her voice rising, "but I am so sad that we will not be going to earth soon. I am so far from Stephan now." 

Jean-Paul looked at his sister. "Jeanne-Marie, we talked about this before. Stop dreaming! You already lost him and you are never getting him back!"

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Jean-Paul was suddenly sounding very sharp and angry. I hadn't seen him look so angry since, possibly, that day I'd told him about my fling on Ceti III. The sting in his words seemed uncalled for and it was so abrupt too. 

And I guess Jeanne-Marie hadn't seen him so angry either. Tears started to well on her reddened face. "So I am just to forget about him then, eh??" she spewed, easily returning her brother's rage. 

"No, but you have to face reality. He's gone! He doesn't love you. You keep thinking that once we get to earth-----"

Jeanne-Marie flung her wineglass at her brother's face. It hit him around one eye. I watched Jeanne-Marie storm out of the room, and Jean-Paul clutch the area of his face.

"Are you alright?" I whispered. I wasn't sure why I was whispering except that I knew I wanted an antidote to all the loudness that had just transpired. 

"I'm alright," he mumbled. He removed his hands from the vicinity of his eye, and I could tell that he'd be okay; the glass had not hit the eye itself. "Guess I deserved that, no? I am drunk."

"Jeanne-Marie's drunk. You're more tipsy than anything, I think." I held a napkin and dabbed at the wine dripping on his face, my mind reeling a bit from the events of the last few seconds. You never knew what those twins would do.

Seeing Jean-Paul looking weak, I helped him towards the bed. He laid on his side. "You want some ice for that?" I asked. Upon receiving his nod, I iced up one hand and gently brought it towards Jean-Paul's face. We were both silent then. I sat next to the bed with my icy hand on his face, listening to his breathing. His anger seemed to be cooling off.

"Bobby, I just want Jeanne-Marie to stop living in the past. She can't pretend that when we get to earth, Jean's going to make contact with Stephan and he's going to say that he loves his mother and misses her and wants to return." He added, "That's enough ice for now, ma coeur. Thank you."

"I know what you mean about Jeanne-Marie," I said, gratefully removing my hand from his face. My arm had been getting tired. "But imagine how you'd feel if it was your kid. You think you'd ever just give up?"

"I suppose not. It is just that….she needs to accept what has happened. And I have heard her go on and on about Stephan a thousand times now!" his voice again sounded mad.

"Well, let her go on and thousand-and-one times," I said firmly. "Neither of us can really understand what she's going through."

Jean-Paul smiled. "I love it when you are so resolute!" He sat up, propped up by one arm. "Amour, I **am** only tipsy." He reached a hand to caress my face and he had the look in his eyes. "Do you want to?"

"I always want to," I said enthusiastically. I smiled, "And I don't know if I've ever been made love to by an angry and tipsy Jean-Paul before!"

The idea carried a bit of thrill for me and I pictured a night of aggressive, heart-pounding lovemaking from Jean-Paul. But in reality, his anger had dissipated and the booze just made him tired now. At one point, when I'd scooted down on the bed and had been gleefully doing one of my specialties -- giving great head -- he said, "Why don't you top tonight?" I assented to this role-reversal and he repositioned himself to lay on his side. Don't get me wrong; I greatly enjoyed it all -- the entwining of arms and legs, kissing the back of his neck, and being inside him; very affectionate stuff -- but this just wasn't what I'd imagined. And he went to sleep right afterwards. Oh well. 

***************

I avoided Hank the next day. Doesn't that sound terrible? I guess I was still afraid of the anger I'd seen from him during our last one-on-one. We now had like less than 24 hours before we'd have to begin the landing procedures for Freedom. The planet loomed ahead in the distance. Hank was busy with the other field commanders and Jean, reviewing and re-reviewing their modified landing procedures. When I saw him at breakfast (he did not show for lunch or dinner), he looked distracted and distant. I thought that maybe he needed to concentrate on preparations for the ship landing. I also got the idea that maybe he'd be more approachable once we were safely ensconced on the planet. 

So I backed off and gave him the space I thought he needed. Or maybe it was just plain selfishness; my fear of approaching Hank in an angry mood

At least we had one thing going for us. So far, as Cyclops reported, the engines were holding up better than we thought. Although severely wounded, the engines had enough power to get us to the planet's orbit. I hadn't realized it but I guess some had feared they would out-and-out break, but those fears seemed unfounded. 

Since I wasn't going to be involved in the landing of the ship, I tried to hang back and just relax that day. There wasn't much I could do at that point. 

Finally, when it was time, we were all called to engineering and we strapped ourselves in. Cyclops, Jean, and Hank would remain on the bridge but too many cooks would spoil the soup and we didn't need any more than three people working on landing the ship. So the rest of us buckled ourselves into seats in engineering and waited.

*****************

The landing of Freedom proved uneventful for the X-men. The ship was guided partly by its failing engines and partly by the finely-honed skill of Jean Grey's telekinesis. It entered the atmosphere of the foreign planet and began to descend. As many of the X-men held their breath, Freedom slowly and successfully landed, without sustaining any additional damage. All of the crew was safe, and the starship now cradled in a barren area of the vast planet.

Freedom's sensors still functioned and the X-men knew that no humanoids existed in the area. The group was far from any advanced life forms. "But they are out there," Jean murmured on the bridge, teetering between exhaustion from having used her telekinesis and exhilaration at the X-men's safe landing. She also wanted to learn more about the lifeforms on the planet, but was far too tired to do any sort of probing. 

Charlotte could, as well, sense the emotions of the humanoids who inhabited the planet. The young girl now had a better grasp on how to buffer herself against the emotions of thousands or millions of minds. The young girl shook quietly and clung to her father. "You're alright, Charlotte?" Scott whispered.

"Yes, Daddy," she replied, though she sounded far away.

The balance of the team filtered from engineering towards the bridge. "What now?" Northstar asked, echoing the curiosity of those around him. "Let's have a look around outside."

"Let's not be hasty, Northstar," Cyclops said. He was holding Charlotte in his arms. The girl remained silent but her eyes were wide. Jean had retired to their room to rest and regain her strength. "It's about ten degrees out there and very windy," he added. 

"We got winter clothes. An besides, we gotta get out there an' explore sometime. The sensors show there ain't anyone around," Wolverine said. 

"No big animals either, right?" Rogue asked.

"Right," Cyclops replied, realizing he'd lost this battle. Well, maybe they were right. What sense did it make to keep the team cooped up inside the starship if no immediate danger lay outside? Cyclops couldn't fully explain his protective urge and the desire to keep the group inside the ship. `Well really,' Scott said to himself, `we're going to be here a **long** time. If they want to explore it now, let them.'

"I take it you three are volunteering to be on the first away team," Cyclops stated. He wasn't sure "away team" was the right terminology to use now, but it would have to fit. "Who else?"

Discussions erupted on the over-crowded bridge. Both Jeanne-Marie and Bobby attempted to convince Northstar to remain on board the ship, and Gambit did likewise with his wife. Cyclops felt a hint of pleasure at noting that he wasn't the only one who'd felt some sort of instinct to remain inside. 

It looked as if Bobby and Jeanne-Marie lost their battle, but Gambit won his. Northstar would be going on the away team, and Rogue would not. Northstar would be joined by Wolverine, Gambit, and Shaman. Cyclops agreed that this was a good size for an away team. The quartet headed for the supply room to dress for the weather outside.

****************

Shaman carried a video camera, so the rest of us could sit inside the rec room and watch. All of us were there (no longer did we have a need to plant someone on bridge duty) except for Jean and most of the children.

I was just as curious about this new planet as anyone else, don't get me wrong. So maybe Jeanne-Marie and I were out of line in asking Jean-Paul to stay inside the ship. An over-reaction, I guess. X-men shouldn't be afraid of the new and unknown, but for some reason, I was. I just wanted Jean-Paul there with me, warm and safe indoors.

The away team did a good job in bundling up. They had hats and gloves, along with coats that looked insulated and very toasty. They also brought face masks and scarves, It was kind of weird seeing Jean-Paul, before he set off, all covered up like that. I didn't think I'd ever seen him with so much clothes on. His elfin ears were covered by his hat. Even Wolverine had the layers of clothes on.

The days of hot sun, sandy white beaches, and refreshing water in which to swim on An'zhina clearly were gone.

The first thing we saw --- when the exit ramp was lowered and we watched through Shaman's camera --- was snow. An abundance of white snow. This solar system had two suns and both could be seen dimly in the distance, but they appeared as if drained and out of energy. We could see traces of sunlight reflected on snow but it was dim and feeble. 

Jean-Paul, Wolverine, Gambit, and Shaman walked across the virgin landscape, their tracks the only ones on the fresh snow. Jean-Paul could have flown, of course, but Wolverine said he wanted the away team to stick together at first. We could hear the crunching sounds of boots trampling snow. For an instant, I had an inexplicable desire to turn into my Iceman form, but I swallowed it.

"How cold is it? And is it terribly windy?" Jeanne-Marie asked via the communicator.

"It's cold," Shaman allowed. His voice sounded far away, though the group couldn't have been more than 30 feet from the ship. "There is a moderate wind."

"Nothing compared to half the winters we grew up with, ma soeur," Jean-Paul added. You could see his breath in the cold air.

"I can't see anything other than snow in each direction," Cyclops commented. Shaman and his camera had just completed a full 360 degree turn, to give us all a better view.

"Neither can we," Wolverine said bluntly.

That about summed it up. Snow in each and every direction, and nothing but. I didn't see any lakes or rivers, any forests, or any hills. The snow-covered ground looked mostly level and flat.

"The snow looks pretty deep," Cyclops observed.

"Yeah, it's almost up to my knees," Gambit replied. Again I marveled at how distant the away team sounded. "Hey, Cyke, tell me dis is the heart of winter for dis place an' it's gonna get better from here."

"The data retrieved from the computer does not corroborate that, unfortunately," Hank said. He'd been sitting in a corner of the rec room quietly. I glanced at him and then looked down, guiltily. "Temperatures in this area will drop to thirty or forty below during their coldest months."

"So does it ever get warm?" Sam asked.

"Yes, during the brief summer, temperatures will reach the fifties and perhaps the sixties."

"Great," Sam muttered. 

"You smell anythin', Wolverine?" Rogue asked. I took a look at Rogue and wondered if she was mad at not being on the away team. I knew she hated it when Gambit treated her like a china doll. She looked none too pleased, though she didn't look angry either---thank goodness; a pissed off Rogue is never a good thing.

"A few strange smells," Wolverine replied. "There are some birds near here and I can smell 'em. I don't think we gotta worry much about 'em. I can see a few trees in the distance. Nuthin' like a forest, though." 

  
Wolverine's eyesight had to be pretty incredible. Squinting at the monitor, I couldn't see any trees at all. 

Wolverine added, "The air ain't like earth's---it's more like the Paradise planet or even that Nari Silara place. Ain't any pollution," he explained. 

"Even I can smell the difference," Jean-Paul said. "It's fresh."

"Our sensors do agree that the inhabited areas of the planet are not industrialized," Hank said, "which would explain the pollution-free air."

The team continued to walk for a while longer. A few of the large birds Wolverine mentioned passed over them once. The birds seemed to slow down and fly lower, but they weren't really interested in the group.

"Those birds have the right idea," Jean-Paul said. "Let me take a look from above." 

I heard Wolverine mumble something along the lines of, 'You're just gonna see more of the same.'

"I have another idea," Cyclops said. "It's going to be nightfall in about thirty minutes, and tomorrow it's supposed to be warmer. Tomorrow let's send a team of those who can fly----" he took a look in the direction of Cannonball and Jeanne-Marie, who were sitting near each other– "those who can fly who **want** to explore, of course." 

The group assented, and the four members of the away team trudged back to the ship.

"Maybe it's good that we're in such a lonesome place," Rogue said, as we all started to get up to meet the away team by the air lock. "It's probably better to be here then surrounded by…people and stuff. Like that area of Nari Silara."

"Yes, but there can be a downside too," Jeanne-Marie replied. "If we are to be here for a long time, there are many disadvantages to being stuck in such a barren place."

Hank had been standing near Jeanne-Marie when she said those words and I couldn't miss the look of pain on his face.

***************

The next order of business Cyclops needed to attend to began with a meeting of the field commanders. They would need to discuss engine and shuttle repairs, as well as setting more limits and restrictions on usage of the replicators. The X-men would have to conserve as much dilithium as possible, not knowing how long they might be stranded.

"Shouldn't the whole team be here, Cyclops?" Rogue asked, as she settled down into a chair inside the conference room. Wolverine and Beast were also seated at the rectangular table. 

"She's got a point," Wolverine said. "This stuff is gonna impact everyone."

Cyclops struggled to keep his mood steady. Did they have to start the meeting this way? None of them ever really understood what it was like to be the leader, he mused. No matter how solid he thought a decision, it was always open and subject to attack. Perhaps "attack" was too strong a word, he would allow, but every decision was open to questioning. He had hoped it might get better with Storm's temporary absence, but it hadn't.

"What I had in mind was for us to make some preliminary recommendations. Afterwards, we can take them to the whole team for them to agree to," Cyclops said, trying to keep a defensive tone out of his voice. "Sometimes it becomes too much of a free-for-all if we start discussing these things with the whole group." And other times, Cyclops noted, the only people speaking would be the field commanders and a couple others while most of the team sat silently. "I think it's more organized this way, and if people disagree with our…decisions, they can always bring it up and we can reconsider."

"Okay," Rogue said. Wolverine and Beast nodded agreement as well.

"Before we begin the discussions," Hank started, "I must bring up once again our previous conversation, Cyclops." Hank turned to Rogue and Wolverine. "Due to my error on the bridge, I had told Cyclops that I wish to resign my position of field commander."

"What??" Rogue asked, springing forward in her seat. Neither Beast nor Cyclops had told anyone of this conversation. 

"Cyclops refused to accept my resignation at the time," Hank continued. "However, we need to discuss this. It was my negligence that caused our predicament. And therefore I must insist that I be permitted to resign."

"We all make mistakes," Wolverine said. "Ain't none of us perfect."

"Yeah, Hank," Rogue said. "You gotta stop beatin' yourself up over this. I don't think that this makes you unfit to be a field commander."

"What they're saying is right, Hank," Cyclops said. "And I still cannot accept your resignation over this. I **will** not accept it, and I am asking you to keep your position."

Hank shook his head. "We have discussed the need to cultivate more X-men leaders on An'zhina, and perhaps now is the time to start fostering the development of our own people. We have others who would make good field commanders. Some I might suggest are Jean, Gambit, Nightcrawler, or Northstar. Alternatively, perhaps we do not need more leaders than the three of you, given how small our group is. Irregardless of that matter, I must insist upon resigning."

The discussion and debate continued on. Cyclops vehemently argued against Hank resigning. Rogue couldn't hide a half smile, wondering if Cyke's passion on this subject was fueled in part by his fear at the prospect of having Gambit or Northstar as a field commander. Rogue knew that Cyclops would be thinking ahead about this – he always tried to stay a step or two ahead of things. Rogue herself didn't believe that Hank would actually resign, so she did not dare get her hopes up at the thought of having Gambit as a fellow field commander. (Though she again was angry at her husband for asking her not to go on the away mission, and she guessed they would have a spirited argument later that day.) 

Finally, Hank agreed to abide by the wishes of the others and retain his position. "I will agree to this only because the three of you are asking it of me," he explained.

"Hank," Wolverine began. "Thank you."

Rogue nodded vigorously. "Yes, thank you. We all want you to stay and we all know you're a great leader."

With that matter settled, Cyclops turned the course of the meeting over to engine repair. The group reviewed the information at hand about the state of the engines. The data was not encouraging, but the matter was not hopeless either. 

"The damage is more extensive and severe than the damage we sustained in the magnetic field storms," Hank concluded, referring to the incident years ago which had ended up with the X-men stranded for seven months on the Paradise Planet. "However, I think there is an excellent chance that the engines can be repaired."

"And what 'bout the chances of them not ever gettin' fixed?" Rogue asked. 

"That is indeed a possibility, though I think a slim one," Hank admitted. "It is possible that the damage might be more extensive than appears now. The asteroids might have caused damage that our sensors are not even detecting now, due to the sheer number and minute size of them. Another factor to consider is that the chance exists that our repair efforts might cause additional damage."

"We need to take that chance. We can't stay here forever. Hank, I would suggest that you and I begin repairs at once," Cyclops said. 

"When we were stranded on the Paradise Planet, you guys had Storm and the Professor helpin' you," Rogue said. "Do you think you're gonna need more help now too?"

Hank and Cyclops discussed it briefly. The two of them, due to their experience on the Paradise Planet, understood the workings of the engines better than anyone else on board. They also recalled that, at times during the first situation, all four team members had not truly been needed. They concluded that for the time being, the two of them would work on the engines and if they needed additional help, they would request it then.

"There's been a lot of talk 'bout the shuttles," Rogue said. "Say, if we can't get the engines fixed, we can always leave in the shuttles. I know we ain't all gonna fit in one shuttle. But we could take a few people, go back to An'zhina, drop off some people and return with some others in the shuttle and the other shuttle that we left on An'zhina."

"Yes," Hank said. "Slowly but surely, we can continue making trips until everyone is returned to An'zhina. Of course that will not help Freedom. If we cannot fix the engines, the starship will remain on An'zhina – possibly forever."

"Unless we can convince Queen Marina to lend us a starship again," Cyclops said. Oddly he felt unembarrassed this time at bringing up the sore topic of favors from the monarch. He knew that virtually everyone else knew what had transpired between him and the Queen in order to procure the remedy for Northstar's former condition. For reasons he could not explain, he wasn't bothered that much about it. "We could pack Freedom up inside the ship—like we did before, when they lent us the Valiant---and bring it home. Or tow it."

"We're gettin' ahead of ourselves," Wolverine said. "I thought the shuttles were banged up pretty bad."

"One of 'em looked like a package of shredded cheese," Rogue added. "It ain't goin' anywhere."

Hank surveyed the damage report. "One shuttle is indeed destroyed beyond repair. The other was spared from the brunt of the attack and there is a possibility it could be made serviceable."

The leaders decided to recommend to the group that they initially focus their repair efforts on the ship's engines. Should engine repairs appear futile, they agreed to attempt to fix the shuttle as a back-up plan. They would run this by the rest of the X-men for their opinions.

"The final urgent item for us to discuss has to do with dilithium," Cyclops said. "How much do we have right now?"

"If we continue current consumption rates," Hank began, "we have enough for approximately 37 months. Assuming that we will keep the holodeck shut-down."

"That's it?" Rogue asked. "Seems like we had more."

"We probably shouldn't have dropped off so much of the supply on An'zhina," Cyclops said. "Of course hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Who could've foreseen this?"

"If we were to turn off our cloaking device, we can significantly extend our supply," Hank said. 

The leaders discussed this option. The obvious downside is that it would open up the possibility of FOH vessels being able to detect them. It was unlikely that FOH would be scanning surfaces of planets (as opposed to space itself), but it was not out of the question either. The team decided that for the time being, the cloak would need to remain. If their supplies ran low, they had the option of having Jean perform telepathic scans of surrounding space. That way, the X-men would have time to put up the shields should Jean detect FOH nearby. That plan, however, carried risk as well; Jean might not telepathically sense FOH starships until after they had sensed Freedom – especially if FOH had improved their sensors. Freedom's weapon systems had been damaged in the asteroid field. A confrontation with FOH could prove disastrous. 

"Well, it's not the end of the world," Cyclops said. "In three years' time, we'll have to have either fixed the engines or one of the shuttles. And if we haven't, we can always turn off air support. We can breathe the air on the planet."

"If we have to, we can live off this planet," Wolverine said. He meet his teammates' questioning looks. "Not this area of it, but we can move."

Hank nodded. "This is a planet with a structure similar to earth's. Our preliminary scans do indicate this planet has soil that will work with the vegetable seeds we carry," Hank said. "We can always garden."

"And hunt," Wolverine said. 

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that," Cyclops said. "There's always the chance that the Professor might someday get in the shuttle on An'zhina and use his telepathy to find us. I know, I know---it's a shot in the dark. But we are in the same solar system as the Paradise Planet. Maybe he'd get the idea to look this way." Cyclops took a breath. "Look, one way or another, we'll get through this. It's a setback, no one's happy about it --- but we **are** going to manage. And…and at least we're all together."

  
Wolverine couldn't explain it, but he did not get the urge to roll his eyes at Cyclops's speech. The words were sincere and came across so. Wolverine had to admit that he found himself agreeing. And less than an hour later, Scott said similar words to the rest of the X-men and the team appeared inspired then too. 

**************

We had a lot of new restrictions on using the replicators, but they all made sense. The field commanders drew up a list of items we could replicate. Anything not on the list had to be approved by the leaders. I couldn't argue with the logic of it. We also went back to closing off portions of the ship. 

They did, though, decide to leave the gym open for five hours every day, which was a great decision in my book. We all would need to work off the possible boredom and frustration of being cooped up here. I don't think they ever considered shutting it down permanently. Obviously the rec room would be open—at all times---as well. 

I sought out Hank soon after the meeting. He was in engineering. I entered the strange room, a room in which I'd never feel comfortable due to the dominating presence of myriad machines and equipment. Some of them hummed noisily; most were silent. I am ashamed to admit that after nearly three and a half years of basically living aboard a starship, I have no idea how most of these mysterious machines operated. Hank's large form stood with the back to me.

"Are you down here 'cause you and Cyclops are gonna start working on the engines soon?" I asked. "Or have you already started?" I looked at my watch. "Wow, a mere ten minutes after the meeting ends and you're already at it. I'm impressed."

Hank turned around, looked at me and smiled. That broad, reassuring smile showed me that everything was going to be okay between us. "The sooner we begin this work, the better. Cyclops will join me soon – he has a few child care matters to attend to first."

I nodded. Hank then stepped closer to me and said, "Bobby, I wish to apologize for my behavior when you and I were last alone. I reacted with some anger, and my anger was misdirected. You were not the appropriate target of my anger."

I shrugged and said, "Hey, no big deal. If that was what you call 'angry', it was pretty mild compared to most people. You gotta remember my boyfriend's a quick-tempered and arrogant hot-head---your worst mood can't be too bad compared to his." I saw Hank smile at my words. (He knew that I was exaggerating, of course, about Jean-Paul. Since Jean-Paul had recovered from being tortured by FOH, he'd never been mean to me. And since starting "therapy", he'd improved his disposition even more. But he still had his moments when I saw the "old" Jean-Paul.) 

"Still, I regret the manner in which I said some of those words."

"Nothin' to worry about. I, um, I just feel bad that I haven't been there for you much. Shit, if I'd been a better friend, I would've realized how depressed you were." 

"There is no need for you to brow-beat yourself. You **did** try to console me several times, Bobby, but I was not receptive to your words. Indeed, I would not have responded to **anyone's** attempt to console me."

I guess my last comment had sounded self-pitying again and I knew I had to cut it out. I stepped a bit closer to him and gently asked. "So Hank….what is it? I mean, you're missing Panda and Rob like crazy, aren't you? Like duh. But is there something more too?" I don't know where I got the idea to ask that last part, but I had. 

"I miss them, of course," he said. He looked as if he wanted to say more but stopped for some reason.

So I couldn't resist prompting him. "And…..?" I pushed. He really looked as if he might say more, and I was hanging on his every word.

Hank turned his head, and I followed his gaze. Cyclops approached us. After a terse 'hello' in my direction, he turned to Hank and said, "We'd better get started."

"Wow, you guys don't waste any time, do you?" I sure didn't mean to come off sounding like a jerk, but Scott walked in at such a bad time. This might sound insane since Hank's been my best friend for so long, but I was just realizing how little he usually opened up and I had just gotten him to a point where I knew he was going to say more. 

I resolved that the next time I got Hank alone, we'd be in one of our quarters with some privacy and we would get to the bottom of things. 

**************

The following day, the X-men discussed sending a second away team to further explore the planet. They had spent the first day getting settled in, holding meetings to determine plans of action, beginning engine repair work, and ensuring all was functioning as smoothly as possible on board Freedom. 

"I'm gonna go on this mission," Rogue said to Gambit, late in the morning. The pair was hurriedly dressing in their room together. "Cyke said it'd be a good idea for those who can fly to have a look around." The couple was late, they knew; breakfast would nearly be finished and the X-men had decided that the away team would leave shortly after the day's first meal. The reminder call they'd received (from Bobby; they had requested it of him the night before) twenty minutes ago had woken them up from sleep.

"Okay," Gambit responded. He was using a towel to squeeze the water out of his hair as he didn't care for blow dryers.

  
"Okay?" Rogue echoed. She finished strapping on a boot and had fixed it just a bit too tight. "Remy, we gotta settle one thing right now. You don't gimme permission on where I can go and where I can't. I'm pregnant but I ain't helpless." She kept her voice relaxed; she was not unleashing the full fury that she was capable of. She wasn't hiding her displeasure either, though. 

"I know dat, chere," he responded evenly. 

"Well, then we gotta talk 'bout you bossin' me around in the meetin' yesterday, tellin' me I can't go on the away mission." Rogue didn't quite have the energy for a fight, but she had stewed over that incident. She and Gambit had not spoken much the previous night when they had gone to bed.

Gambit angrily bit his tongue. He wanted to retort that he had not been "bossing her around", but he kept silent on that. "I jus' wanted to make sure dis place was okay," he finally said. "It is. So you gonna be fine."

"Right. I couldda been on that mission yesterday and found out that this place was okay. I'm **invulnerable**, remember?" She looked at her time piece. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

Gambit followed his wife down the hallway, feeling sadness swirl around his heart. And later, as he watched the away team depart through the airlock, the insight hit him. `We were in each other's minds,' he thought. `I 'dought dat we knew each other inside an' out….an' I **did** know her dat well, at leas' den I did.' So why couldn't Rogue see that Gambit was only concerned for the baby's safety and for Rogue's? After what had occurred with Dagron, Gambit's concern for Rogue was not excessive---at least not as far as he was concerned. Why was she acting like he was a control freak or a domineering husband, when he had only Rogue's best interests in mind?

The sadness remained with him and he barely watched the away team's video feed. The bond they had shared when he entered her mind should not be allowing them to have such a disagreement or a misunderstanding. Had it all been an illusion? Gambit ran his tongue along his teeth but he couldn't remove the stale taste of disappointment. 

***************

The four-person away team soared through the air. Rogue and Cannonball headed one way, the Alpha Flight twins another direction. Both groups had video cameras.

Most mutants gifted with the ability to fly took it for granted. Northstar was no exception. Having been able to fly since puberty, he had only dim memories of being subject to gravity's demands. As a teenager, he got used very quickly to the wind rushing against his face, to the squawks of birds fleeing the strange invader, to looking down at those without this divine gift as they trudged along on the earth picking up one foot after the other. Northstar had even viewed himself as something of a deity back then. He had been only half-joking in that assessment. Nothing could quite compare to the sensation of lightness and speed with a hint of fear as one flew as high as the tallest city buildings.

At Aurora's request, the twins held hands as they traversed the sky. Gifted with hyper-speed as well, they would easily be able to explore more terrain than Rogue and Cannonball. They looked down as mile after mile of white snow sped by.

The twins slowed down as they set eyes upon a change in landscape. A cluster of trees now; perhaps not a forest but more likely a grove of trees. An icy river lay nearby, the water frozen over. Further along, a hilly area with grass peeking out from beneath snow. More terrain was passed over and now both grass and leaves could be spotted. Northstar hoped he might see bright and unusual colors in this planet's leaves and grasses; the trees on An'zhina boasted a diverse array of colors including lilac and indigo. But this planet's foliage ran towards musty shades of green sprinkled with browns.

"Can you see all this?" Jean-Paul asked over his communicator.

"Yes," Cyclops said. "But if you keep flying at that speed, you will be out of sensor range soon."

"You won't be out of telepathic range though," Jean reminded. 

"It is refreshing to view a change of landscape," Hank commented. 

  
"Yes. It's still cold here though," Northstar said. 

"You have traveled quite a distance," Cyclops said, checking his monitor. "If you continue in that direction, you will encounter a large sea. You're almost at the tip of this continent."

Rogue's voice could be heard over the communicator. "You guys ain't encountered any life forms here, have you?"

"No," Jeanne-Marie replied. 

"Neither have we."

"There are some on this continent," Jean murmured. "I wonder if perhaps they're doing some hibernating --- or something like it."

Rogue and Cannonball flew over an area with some structures. They glimpsed primitive buildings but no people. The area in which these buildings stood, however, was exceptionally cold. "It's gotta be 30 below," Sam said, his teeth chattering. "This Kentucky boy's about had it." He had worn so many layers of clothing that the smallest movement became difficult. Despite being covered, his ears stung painfully and his nose had gone completely numb.

"We oughtta come back some other day," Rogue said. "I don't see any people around anyway." From their altitude, she could not discern a lot of detail. However, the buildings did not appear in prime condition. They looked as if they were beginning to crumble. Rogue could see markings on the buildings but she was not persuaded to investigate any further. Invulnerable as Rogue was, she didn't care for the bitingly frigid wind either.

"Ruins of some sort," Hank speculated, watching the videotapes as the away teams began their return to Freedom. Hank looked forward to warmer weather when perhaps more exploration could be performed.

*****************

Later that day, Rogue and Gambit were in their quarters together. They sat on the edge of bed next to each other, both looking in the same direction with their feet touching the floor. "Gonna be a long, cold stay here," Gambit murmured. "At leas' on the Paradise Planet we get out and enjoy the area. It was warm dere sometimes."

"And when it was cold there, it was never this cold," Rogue added glumly, subconsciously pulling her sweater tightly against her. She wanted to add that on the bright side, at least they had their baby's arrival to prepare for. She didn't feel like looking on the bright side though. 

"Remy, are we ever gonna stop fightin' with each other?" she finally asked, sighing. Their disagreements had weighed the super-humanly strong woman down. She felt as a normal human might if forced to drag a leaden weight around.

"I dunno chere," he replied. He continued to look straight ahead instead of at his wife. "Maybe it be human nature to fight." He was silent for a bit. "Is our nature anyway," he added. "We both headstrong."

"But we both love each other," she said, spreading her hands. "And we had---I mean, we **have** --- such a connection with each other. The way you brought me out of that…trance. We were in each other's minds, Remy," she said, passionately. "I was a part of you, and you were a part of me. We were joined in a way that I don't think most people can ever understand. We had---have—that amazin' connection."

Her words sparked something. He reached for her hand and held it. "Chere, I was t'inkin' dat same t'ing today," he said tenderly. "I was wonderin' why we still fight even after we had dat." He was touched that she had stumbled upon the same question. "An' I was so disappointed."

The room was silent for a bit. "Maybe….maybe," Rogue groped, "we still got that connection but it just don't mean we ain't never gonna fight again. Jean and Scott have a mindlink but they argue with each other." 

Gambit nodded. Rogue had shared with him before what Jean had confided to Rogue --- the fact that Jean and her husband **did** have their disagreements with each other at times. Nevertheless, Gambit didn't care for comparisons with Jean and Scott.

"Maybe dere ain't such a t'ing as a perfect relationship," Gambit added. "We do love each other. You know dat you mean more to me den anyone or anyt'ing in the galaxy."

"Maybe we jus' gotta accept that we're gonna fight and argue, and we ain't gonna see eye-to-eye on everything."

The couple remained sitting on the bed, hands clasped together tightly.

*****************

****

TO BE CONTINUED

Look! I have a **quiz**….for all you fans of this trilogy, here's a quiz you can take. 

What gift will winners receive? Um, not much – but if you get everything right, I'll mention your name next chapter (only if you give me permission.)

So do the best you can, and email answers to stormkpr@usa.net (If you don't want to take the quiz, please email feedback to me instead.)

1. Name 3 of the 4 X-men who Wolverine spent time training in karate.

2. What is Mark's last name?

3. At least how many "mutant containment centers" does FOH have on earth?

4. How many earth days constitutes a week on An'zhina?

5. Of all the "missions" the X-men embarked upon ("mission" being defined as X-men leaving An'zhina for space, whether or not the mission was successful), how many have Rogue and Gambit been on? 

6. Same question as above, but for Jubilee

7. Which 2 mutants stayed in John and Elaine Grey's attic?

8. Describe the types of assistance the Pirates have provided the X-men at times.

9. Name some of the gifts that the Natives on the Paradise Planet gave the X-men.

10. Name 2 X-men who have had extended stays in sick bay and describe the reason why.

11. What was the name of the play that Queen Marina and Scott saw on their date?

12. Alpha Flight multi-part name question! First, name Shaman's daughter, then name Jeanne-Marie's (deceased) husband.

13. Describe 2 X-men and their respective hobbies

14. What are 2 of the "clubs" that the mutants on An'zhina formed?

15. What name did Jean and Scott consider for their second child, if it had been a girl?

16. How many sleeping quarters are on board the ship Freedom?

17. How many hours is a standard bridge duty shift on Freedom?

18. What type of government does Endaria have?

19. What shape is the table in Freedom's main conference room?

20. Name An'zhina's resident deejay.

21. Does Gambit snore?

22. How old was Bobby when he re-joined the X-men?

23. What is the age difference between Charlotte and Rory?

24. Describe a few things that Gambit did to pass the time before *that night* on the Paradise Planet. 

25. How many different people has each of these characters slept with since the start of the series? (Note-- obviously, I refer to consensual sex only.) : Wolverine, Cyclops, Storm, Bobby

26. How many "love scenes" are there in the entire series? List the couples, what positions they get in, how many orgasms they.....Oh, forget it. Even I have no idea.


	19. Chapter 19

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

*****************

Storm had a wonderful dream one night. The X-men were at earth, and she was with them. Wolverine stood at her side. They both were powerful, strong, and brave – side-by-side, totally united in their love for each other and their convictions.

The X-men were liberating an FOH camp. Storm was leading one of the charges, swooping through the air and commanding the elements. FOH succumbed to the X-men's power. Mutants were freed and FOH soldiers begged to be forgiven as they realized the heinous crimes they'd committed against mutantkind. Thrilled with the success of their first mission, the X-men continued on, liberating camp after camp. Civilians cheered as mutants were rescued and FOH was toppled. Families and loved ones were reunited. The thrill of victory coursed through Storm's blood.

She then woke up. She groped for the light, wishing fervently to someday again experience the sensation of light filtering in from a window gently waking her from sleep. The artificial light of her cold quarters was a measly substitute. Storm blinked and glanced at her clock. By their ship's time, it was six a.m. She tried to recapture the elusive sensations of her dream but they had faded away. Sleep would not return either, which truly wasn't surprising. Six a.m. was becoming her usual waking time anyway, and how could one fall back asleep after such a triumphant dream?

Storm decided that she could not tolerate another day like this. Another long, monotonous twenty-fours hours with the same routine, waiting for night to arrive so the pattern could begin once more. `I believe that things happen for a reason,' Storm told herself after praying. `There is a reason that I am a member of this crew as well. Sitting back and tolerating the ride is not acceptable any longer. It is time that I make some changes.'

Less than an hour later, Storm and Dani sat in Storm's room, eating breakfast together as they frequently did. Storm shared her dream with Dani.

"Wow," Dani mused. "It sounds so cool. But hey, if the X-men's mission is successful, maybe that's pretty much what's happening now." The tactics the X-men had agreed upon were somewhat different than what occurred in the dream, Dani and Storm knew, but perhaps the results were the same and Jean's telepathy altered the thinking of enough people. "Maybe the dream was a sign that all is going well."

"Perhaps. Hopefully," Storm remarked. "I also believe the dream might have been a vision from the Goddess. And perhaps there was a call to action within it as well…. something we are supposed to do too."

"But what?" Dani asked, once she'd finished chewing her hot omelet. The morsel burst with sausage and cheddar cheese flavor, which Dani loved. Without the rest of the X-men, Moonstar took a less rigorous approach to training nowadays; Storm was not the type to nag. And with eating being one of the main points of interest of the day, Dani had been gaining weight. She already had needed to replicate a new, slightly larger pair of trousers. "We know we can't leave the Pirates. Psylocke will stop us, and she's got no problem with getting inside our heads and messing them up."

"Maybe we have a role to play in another area. In getting the Pirates to change their actions." Upon seeing the confused look on Dani's face, Storm continued. "We've approached this…stay with the Pirates as if we were passengers with no control over what occurred. Now I wonder whether that is the right way to go about this."

"But, Storm, we **are** passengers. We're not even allowed on the bridge."

"I am not suggesting that we attempt to take over the ship, and fly it to earth to free FOH camps. Rather, I am suggesting that we work to influence Marrow and Psylocke….and to get them to see the error of their ways."

"You mean get them to see that killing FOH soldiers is wrong."

Storm nodded. 

Dani said, "Well, I dunno Storm. I mean….I agree that it's wrong in principle, I guess. And I sure wouldn't want to kill anyone myself, unless it was in self-defense. But the thought of them getting revenge on FOH doesn't bother me that much."

"Perhaps that is because you have not seen it first-hand. I dread the day we meet an FOH vessel, Dani," Storm said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "I think that the bloodshed and killing will be agonizing for us to watch. Even if we do not watch it, I do not want to hear about it or deal with the other members of this ship after they have killed. Think about it, Dani. Do you want to sit down to dinner with Marrow after she's just killed dozens of soldiers? Will you really want to take to her bed after that?"

Dani looked at her plate. "I guess not. Not that I **ever** want to take to her bed that much." She paused, "Though I hate to say it like this, but getting her revenge on FOH might be a good thing if it puts her in a better mood."

"Violence begets violence. It only comes back to haunt the person who commits it, no matter how justified their reasons may have been."

Dani shrugged. "Rogue, Gambit, and Wolverine sure don't seem like they're haunted by what they did to the soldiers." She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, wishing she hadn't brought up the name of Storm's lover. Moonstar hadn't been with the X-men so long ago when this incident with Wolverine, Rogue and Gambit had happened; she knew of it only through word of mouth.

Storm did not appear angry though. She absentmindedly stirred her tea with a spoon, gazing at the dark liquid. "That may not be true. I believe that they did take a lot of time to heal…from everything, from what they did to the soldiers and what the soldiers did to them. It took Gambit and Rogue far longer than it should have for them to get back together afterwards," Storm mused. She remembered those bittersweet days, how the X-men suffered much but ultimately grew stronger together. The camaraderie! Its absence nipped at Storm. "I….well, what does it matter?" she asked, breaking off that line of thought. "I am certain that Marrow and the others will never have their psyches healed if they keep perpetrating violence. Would you rather spend the rest of your time here with someone who is mentally damaged as she is, or someone who's getting better?"

"Definitely with someone who's getting better. Which, by the way, Marrow has been lately. She's really grooving to those massages." Moonstar had shared with Storm that Marrow had improved her countenance after the time she massaged her, and that they had made the massages a semi-regular occurrence.

"Do you care about her?" Storm asked.

Dani again shrugged. "I definitely am not in love with her. Most days I don't even like her, but yeah I guess I care about her a little. **This** much maybe," she said, holding up her thumb and index finger less than an inch apart from each other.

"And her feelings towards you?" Storm asked. "Have they changed?"

"Yeah, from what I can tell she went from having a serious obsessive crush to having a really **really** serious obsessive crush." Dani sighed. "I thought her…..crush would wear off after a while, but it hasn't yet. Of course," she added dismissively, "we still have a long time to go before our year is up." 

"How would you feel about using your influence over Marrow? To try to persuade her?"

Dani's eyes widened. "You mean….like sit her down and give her the speech about how killing is wrong?" She smiled. "It's a nice idea, but it's been tried, Storm. You yourself tried it that time back when you guys beamed them on board Freedom and prevented them from blowing up that FOH ship. Hell, you had that talk with her back when she joined the X-men."

"Perhaps hearing it from you would make more of an impression. Or perhaps another tactic could be used."

"What do you mean?" Dani asked. She didn't like the tone of Storm's voice.

"You can use her…her crush on you, Dani. Use her feelings for you. You could tell her that the fact that she has killed bothers you; it makes you feel cold towards her. Perhaps you could even tell her that if she demonstrated some remorse….and maybe even vowed to not kill again…., then you could warn to her."

Dani looked back down at her plate because she did not want to look at Storm. She had to collect her thoughts for a few moments, incredulous that the woman she so admired was suggesting such a thing. "So I should use my feminine wiles, like women have throughout the ages, to soften up the big bad Marrow." She phrased it as a statement rather than a question. "Sheesh, Storm it sounds like something out of one of those creepy romance novels or something."

Storm kept her expression placid. She sometimes forgot how mature Dani was for her young age. "If it makes you feel uncomfortable, then certainly do not do it. I am only proposing the idea for you to take it into consideration."

"I don't think so, Storm. I don't care about FOH soldiers enough to sell myself out any more than I have." This time the bitterness came through loud and clear in her voice.

Storm reached for Dani's hand and covered it with her own. "Dani, I am sorry. I did not mean to ask you to 'sell out.' It's only that I recognize the situation we are in and the limited choices we have. And the fact remains that Marrow listens to you."

"Or does she? I've never really asked her for anything. I just kinda go along with whatever she does."

"She did listen to your massage idea though and apparently she likes it. I think she would listen to your ideas about killing too."

"Yeah, but even if she did, there are still three other crew members of this ship. What about them?"

"Well, I cannot say that I know any of them well," Storm began, "but I have some ideas in mind. I want to try to talk with Roula and Thyme. Each of them separately. I am not going to attempt to preach to them, but rather approach it as getting to know them, find out about their pasts. I will share my own past and attempt to get them to open up that way."

"You have no idea what you'll find. They might be more gung-ho on killing FOH boys than Marrow and Psylocke are. And what about Betsy Braddock?"

"I have been thinking of her quite a bit. She and I have hardly exchanged three sentences since we set foot aboard this ship, but I do speculate about her. She seems….bored, I might say. I do not think she is happy here, with the course her life is taking. It's just speculation," Storm qualified.

"If she's bored, it might be because we haven't encountered any FOH ships for a while."

"That is possible. It might be wishful thinking that makes me wonder whether she's bored with the mission of the Pirates." Storm took a breath. "Betsy is going to be the most difficult one to deal with. She and I were never the best of friends when we were in the X-men, and since the time when we rescued her from the camps, our relations were frosty at best."

"Really?" Dani asked, the curiosity in her voice.

"She went through a stage where she….desired Wolverine. She and I had several bitter encounters at that time. In fact, that is likely contributing to her boredom here. She likes having sex with men, and she obviously hasn't been able to do it for a while." Storm didn't want to think much more about the last time Psylocke had had sex with a man.

"Unless she's doing it on the holodeck. I mean – ick – I shudder at the thought of having sex with a simulated character in a computer program, but you know there are people who do it."

Storm and Dani looked at each other and giggled at the thought of Psylocke creating made-to-order lovers on the holodeck.

****************

"You and I never talk about sex."

I cornered my best friend one day when he was taking a break (yes, he was actually taking a break – Cyke must've ordered it) from his engine repair work. We found ourselves enjoying privacy and sipping beverages, sitting in a conference room.

Hank looked thoughtful. He stroked his chin for a bit and slowly nodded. "You are right, perhaps."

"I just realized that the other day. I think that's the weirdest thing. I mean, you're like my best friend. I talk about sex---a lot---with my other friends." Jubilee and I had made it a practice that we shared pretty much every detail of our sex lives with each other. (I mean, I can't say I was interested in Sam but I still wanted to know certain details about him in bed.) Even before Jubilee had a sex life, she'd pump me for details of mine and I'd spare none. And I talked about sex with Rogue and – to a lesser extent -- Gambit. 

"We have discussed it within a medical context," Hank began.

I thought about it. "Well, yeah. When I had sex with that guy on Ceti III, you asked me what he and I did. But only because you were testing me for STDs and you wanted to determine the level of risk I'd taken. And after Jean-Paul was…attacked by FOH, you told him not to have any….how did you put it?….anal-receptive sex."

"Anoreceptive," he corrected. 

"Is that really a word or did you make that up?" I queried, a grin on my face. "Anyway, that's it. That, and after Jean-Paul was diagnosed too but then you just mostly gave us stuff to read about what we could and couldn't do in bed."

Hank nodded. He summarized, "I believe you are correct then. Outside of a medical context, you and I have not discussed sex."

"Don't you think that's odd? I mean, I think it's weird. Like I said, I talk about it with my other friends."

"Well, I believe that the explanation for this is tied directly to our pasts. When we first became friends, nearly two decades ago, you were struggling to accept your sexual orientation and therefore avoided discussions regarding sex. I had never engaged in any sexual behavior before, and therefore had no confidence in this area—nor would I have had much to contribute regarding this topic."

I nodded. "Makes sense. Okay, well now like seventeen years have passed since then, and I've got more confidence, and you've got a wife. We're both like way better adjusted than we were before and you're actually having sex now. Or…well, you were before this mission. But we still never talk about sex. When you needed advice, you went to Gambit instead of me. Which made sense," I quickly added, "since I wouldn't have been able to offer much advice on making love to a woman." I paused. "So do you think that we don't talk about sex with each other just 'cause it's not our habit to?"

"That is indeed a plausible explanation. And I might add that I do not find myself discussing sex with anyone other than Panda." 

"So you're basically not that interested in other people's sex lives; is that it?" I bet that was the answer more than anything. I couldn't see Hank giving a rat's ass what Jubilee and Sam – or any other couple – do in bed. 

"That is correct, I would imagine." Hank then added, a tolerant smile on his face, "So where, exactly, is this conversation heading?"

We both laughed at his question. After the sides of my mouth started to hurt, I sobered up and shrugged. "I dunno. I just thought it was interesting when I realized it. Actually, I guess I'm just trying to get you to open up more."

Hank sighed but it didn't seem a like a sigh of frustration. Sadness was what I detected in it, and on his face. I saw some resignation there as well. "Bobby, I do miss Jessica and the baby; that is indeed correct. The main cause of my melancholy mood is deeper than that, however." He paused, and then finally came out with it. "I fear the prospect of Panda and I growing apart. I fear that this…separation will permanently damage our relationship. Or, perhaps I should use the past tense – I fear that the damage is already done. I wonder whether it can ever be reversed. My error with the asteroids has only lengthened the duration of our separation."

I listened to his words. "Really? I mean, you think you and Panda can't get through this? The two of you….you seemed so solid."

He was quiet for a second or two, and then looked me in the eye as he said, "I frequently question how solid the relationship ever was."

Now that really did shock me. Hank must've seen how surprised I looked. He continued, "I speculate that perhaps Panda and I succumbed to infatuation. Neither of us had ever had a romantic relationship before. When I calculate the duration of our courtship, it was quite brief; we actually were wed less than twelve months after we first met."

"I guess that isn't very long," I admitted. Everything at that time was happening so fast. Actually, everything since I'd rejoined the X-men had happened so fast; I couldn't believe that over three and a half years had gone by since the day Hank visited me in my studio apartment in San Francisco to lure me back to the X-men. Yet, paradoxically, it also felt to me that a lifetime had passed since then. 

"The duration of our courtship was especially brief in comparison to other couples such as Jean and Scott, or Rogue and Gambit," Hank added.

"Well, hey hey wait a minute here. Who says you have to compare yourself to other couples? What's right for one couple isn't necessarily right for another," I said. But even as I said those words, I felt there probably was some truth in Hank's concerns. Less than a year was not a lot of time to get to know someone before committing to spend the rest of your life with them.

"I agree with you, Bobby. Still, I feel that we might have 'rushed into things', to use the colloquial. She suggested that we marry, and I accepted. Perhaps it was partly due to still feeling excitement from the novelty of the relationship, and partly from guilt."

"Guilt?" I asked. And I was mystified. This man was my best friend and I never knew these things. What else didn't I know? Had I been just blind to him all this time?

"At the time she proposed, we had on board the survivors of the third camp that we liberated. I spent 14 to 18 hours per day in sick bay and knew that I had been neglecting our relationship. And after I accepted her proposal, she revealed that she was pregnant. Postponing the wedding at that point would have seemed ill-advised – not that I had considered doing so." He paused to take a breath. He then added, "Additionally, remember that Panda is quite a bit younger than I. Her current age is 24. From a psychological standpoint, that is a young age for one to be ready to make a lifelong commitment."

"Huh," I said, nodding. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Panda's always seemed so mature, I forget how young she is."

Hank was quiet for a few moments. "If I had to summarize my opinions and feelings at this point, Bobby, I would say that I have recently been re-evaluating the relationship, and I must ponder the possibility that a set of circumstances caused Panda and I to marry quickly when perhaps a more cautious approach would have been preferable. I do love Panda. I know that I love our son too. But I hope that you now understand why I express doubts about the relationship."

I was quiet for a bit. "Wow," I finally muttered. I guiltily thought back to the days when Hank and Panda were first getting together. I had been so jealous at the time, jealous that someone else was usurping my position as Hank's number one. Part of me hadn't wanted Hank and Panda to get together, as horrible and blatantly immature as that sounds. And there had been times when I felt Hank and Panda looked so solid while Jean-Paul and I were on the rocks (like after the FOH tortured him.) Now Jean-Paul and I were steadier than ever, and look at Hank. I immediately felt guilty again after having that thought.

"Gee, Hank, I'm sorry," I said. "I—I really am glad you're telling me all this. I never knew."

"I never confided it to anyone else. Truthfully, I did not start to have these ruminations until very recently. Obviously it was a difficult time in our marriage when Panda and I were deliberating over the question of my taking part in this mission without her. Once we disembarked from An'zhina and I was parted from Jessica, I began to reflect often and commenced having these speculations on the past and future of our relationship. I began to wonder how compatible Panda and I truly are, and I oftentimes find myself pondering whether infatuation clouded our judgement."

I looked down at the table. "This must just be killing you, then. You can't even talk this over with her until we get our engines fixed and we can head back for earth….or An'zhina, I guess."

"I must indeed resign myself to the fact that dialog with Panda regarding this matter will be postponed indefinitely. I have no choice but to accept that."

"Once we do get back to An'zhina….you think you'll try to talk it out with her, right? I mean, you'll try to make it work, won't you?"

"Certainly. I have no intentions of returning home and requesting a divorce. That would be far too drastic and far too premature. Whenever we are reunited, I will do everything I can to help our marriage succeed and to be both a strong husband to Panda and father to Rob." He paused. "However, at the time I left, she was very angry with me. Whether that anger has dissipated or is simmering, I do not know. **She** might not want to continue. Irregardless, it is all speculation at this point. I must do what all the X-men are forced to do now….wait."

We sat there in silence for several moments. Hank checked his watch. "Dinner will be served soon."

"We can be late if you want to stay and talk more, you know."

"No. No, I appreciate that you listened to me but I am hungry and we should go to the mess hall now."

"Okay," I said. I then reached for Hank's shoulder as he stood to rise. He sat back down. "Hey, Hank, I just wanted to thank you for opening up with me. I mean, you know you can do that at any time."  


"I know that, and I thank you for listening. I also trust you to keep this all confidential as well."  


"Of course, of course," I said. And I was determined to keep my word. As surprising as this was and as much as I wanted to share it, I vowed I wouldn't tell Jubilee, Rogue, or Gambit. The twins didn't tend to gossip much (they---especially Jeanne-Marie---didn't have too many close friends), but I decided that I would try to not mention it to them either.  


*****************

The X-men had been stranded on the cold planet for six days. Time passed slowly. As the temperature outdoors remained frigid, only Wolverine ever braved the outdoors. Even the loner tended to return to the ship after bouts of only a few hours at a time.

"Things been so busy up till now, I could almost forgit that I was pregnant," Rogue said. "Not that I'm complainin,'" she added. 

Rogue, Jean, and Jubilee had decided to hold a "girls' night out" again, this time to discuss pregnancy and babies. However, since they were not on An'zhina or earth, there really was no "out" that they could go to. They had to settle for eating their dinner together while sitting on the floor of Jubilee's room.

Jeanne-Marie had not been invited this time. She never attended anything the other women invited her to anyway, and given what she'd experienced with her son, the topic for this get-together would have been woefully inappropriate as well. 

"Wouldn't it be an odd coincidence if your baby was born here?" Jean speculated. "Charlotte and Aurora were born when the X-men were stranded on the Paradise planet."

"I hope we ain't stranded here **that** long. Heck, I'll take the Paradise planet over this place," Rogue smirked. "But yeah, seriously that would be kinda weird if my baby was also born while we're stranded."

"So you got any questions for us about what else to expect?" Jubilee asked. She liked that she had some first-hand experience to share with Rogue on this subject.

"So far, everythin's been pretty smooth. I thank my lucky stars that the baby's doin' okay since I been outta that coma. And the morning sickness all but stopped."

"Have you and Remy discussed names, or is it too early?" Jean asked. 

"Funny you should mention it. We talked 'bout it a little just the other day." 

It had been a stimulating conversation, evoking all sorts of memories for Rogue and Remy as well. If the baby was a boy, Gambit strongly wanted to name him after one of the members of the foster family that raised him. Rogue was fine with that idea, saying affectionately to her husband, "Anyone that raised you so well is worth bein' a namesake for our baby." She smiled seeing the way Gambit's face brightened at the thought of bestowing such an honor on either his foster-father Jean-Luc or his foster-brother Henri. He looked more enthused, at that moment, about the baby than she could ever recall.

Neither Rogue nor Gambit could, off the top of their heads, think of any girl's names they favored. Then an idea had popped into Rogue's mind. "Irene," she said. "After Destiny." She wondered why this thought had not crossed her mind before. "She and Mystique sure weren't no saints, but they did teach me to look at my powers like they were a gift instead of a curse. I never started to accept myself 'till I went to live with them; know what I mean, Remy? They helped make me who I am today. Even if they weren't perfect people --- shit, who is perfect, anyway?"

Gambit had nodded his approval of the tribute to Destiny. He wasn't thrilled with the name Irene itself, and Rogue could see this, but he couldn't argue with her reasoning. He would let her choose the name if the baby were a girl so he could hold on to his tribute to Henri or Jean-Luc should Rogue bear a son instead. 

That evening Rogue did not want to divulge to Jean and Jubilee the details of that conversation with her husband. It was too intimate, but she would've told Storm had the Wind Rider been there. Rogue intensely missed her friend. 

So instead during that dinner with Jean and Jubilee, she smiled, savoring the memories to herself, and said, "We got a few ideas out there but it's kinda early an' we'll start thinkin' more seriously later on."

Rogue grinned from ear to ear during a lot of their dinner as they sat and exchanged tales of burping, napping, diapering, and so forth. Jean recounted the time on An'zhina that Charlotte had gotten into the diaper pail and had smeared walls, carpet, and bed with the excrement on diapers she'd gleefully dragged about.

Rogue felt overwhelmed, in a way, to be pregnant. Overwhelmed with excitement and with thoughts on how her life would be different. She was gearing up for the miracle of giving birth, doing what women had been doing for millennia, connecting with something elemental and primal. And it was thrilling to be now fully admitted to an exclusive club which Rogue had once thought denied to her. She was able to touch, she was in a marriage, and now she was to be a mother. She had passed through so many gates to becoming a woman, gates that she had once thought impenetrable.

****************

A couple of weeks just slipped by, with not a whole lot happening. The days were long and, for those of us not working on engine repair, relatively standard. Not that that was a bad thing, really. After all the craziness with what happened on Nari Silara, maybe the routine of the days on this planet became welcome.

Days were spent generally playing games with Rory, Charlotte, and Chris (who all seemed to love the attention), playing board games and card games with the other X-men, eating long meals together, and working out. We didn't want to squander dilithium on running Danger Room programs but we had to keep the gym open. A few times we'd all just sit around in the rec room and tell stories or read. Hank and Jean would recite poetry they liked, Jean-Paul would tell tales of circus life and early Alpha Flight days (he had pretty good storytelling skills —who knew?), and once Gambit even told of a wild adventure that "a friend" of his had back in the Bayou. Scott and Hank worked long hours on trying to understand the engines, but they seemed to make time to relax and socialize too. Given the kinds of things we did to pass the time, I kept having strange flashbacks to our time stranded on the Paradise Planet. 

Except this time I had Jean-Paul, which made it much better. He and I kind of fell into a routine, but it worked for us. We'd get up early and have a really light breakfast together in our room (consisting of stuff like fruit, dry cereal, nutrition bars, etc.) We'd then go work out for a couple hours in the gym. Being there early, we found the gym usually sparsely populated or empty. After the work out, we'd return to our quarters, shower together, and make love (the lovemaking usually beginning in the shower.) He didn't like to begin touching or cuddling until we were in the shower and soaped up. Afterwards, we'd head for the mess hall where those who preferred a later schedule (like Rogue and Gambit) would be lingering over a late breakfast, and we'd join them for a fuller meal. Lunch would be light (a soup and salad or a sandwich – stuff like that), dinner more substantial. Some days Jean-Paul and I made love in the evening too, but usually it was a quicker encounter, less deep and less thorough than our morning lovemaking.

I think all the couples were also indulging in the extended stay here to get in more lovemaking. Well, I know that Jubilee and Sam were, and Rogue and Gambit too. (Of course, I can only assume about Jean and Scott, but I certainly didn't discuss it with them, given that my friendship with them was still kinda on ice.)

Jean-Paul still, by the way, met with Kurt a few times a week. He didn't talk too much about their meetings but he said he was feeling good and in positive spirits.

Another thing that made being stranded this time more fun than our extended stay on the Paradise Planet had to do with the three kids. They were older and, hence, more entertaining. I have to say, I haven't spent a lot of time around children in my life, but the three little ones were **good** kids. Really, overall, they were well-behaved kids. Charlotte, especially, in terms of being very gentle and placid. Rory was shaping up to be more remnant of her mother, a little more high-spirited and lively. She could be so adorable at times. Christopher's personality I wasn't as sure of yet because he was only like 13 or 14 months old at this point, I think. He was a little young to be exhibiting as much of a personality as the girls, but so far he behaved himself pretty well too. (I spent less time with Christopher, too, than with the girls for reasons that I'm sure anyone can guess.) Considering that the kids were cooped up inside a starship, they handled it alright.

We didn't venture outside much. It was just too cold, and there was so little to see outdoors anyway. Miles and miles of white snow surrounded us. Typically it would snow about every other day, and it never seemed to warm to the point where the snow melted. The sun shone intermittently and it must've helped chip away at the snow, but so much continued to accumulate that we were never without it. And even when I took my Iceman form, I was still too cold to remain outdoors.

A few times, we bundled the kids up and made snowmen outside. I used my powers to help direct some snow. But it was too cold for the kids (or anyone, really) to be outdoors for any long period of time. The wind smacked against our faces, feeling akin to rapid strokes inflicted by a whip, and Charlotte began to get teary. So soon we all rushed back in and treated the children to hot chocolate. 

I recall having once or twice complained about the weather on An'zhina. I used to say it was great but it was too monotonous and that we could use some more variety. After all, on An'zhina you never saw temperature extremes; it was never too hot and muggy or too freezing. Well, I now had what I'd wished for, at least on one of the extremes.

Wolverine slipped outside a few times but even he was never gone for too long and always returned. As miserable as he had been during this mission (and I don't exaggerate; a blind person could see that he was broken-hearted without Storm) and as much as he must've desired to separate from the herd, even he could not withstand the chill.

You might think it became almost claustrophobic inside the ship, but I never really felt that way. Actually, Freedom felt more like a warm and cozy haven against the frozen outdoors. Sometimes we were bored, but I enjoyed the days of lounging around the rec room and just talking about nothing in particular with the other X-men. 

We also continued to all train together as a group. These X-men training sessions were held nearly every day. We couldn't use the full abilities of the Danger Room but we could still drill together, splitting off into teams to do mock-battles.

On a warmer day, I decided to see about breaking out of the comfortable routine of mine. I asked Jean-Paul if he wanted to fly out with me. (That would be, with him doing the flying while carrying me.) I guess he was ready for something different as well; he agreed. Jeanne-Marie declined our offer to join us.

I've described it before, so I won't do it again. Just let me say once more how amazingly cool it is to be held in the strong arms of the one you love; he flies through the air as you look down and see the ground swirling by. It was a truly awe-inspiring experience, and breathing the fresh air of this planet exhilarated me to the point where the cold bothered me less so.

"What's that up ahead?" I asked. 

"Those look like the structures that Rogue and Cannonball discovered before," Jean-Paul replied. 

He flew lower so we could get a better look. They indeed looked like the crumbling buildings that Rogue and Sam flew over, which I had seen only from the video feed. 

"Let's at least look at one of them," Jean-Paul said, slowing down and descending. "I could use a chance to set you down anyway."

"What, your arms are getting tired?" I teased. "Even that super-strong Endarian arm?"

"The arm the Endarians gave me is no stronger than my real arm, and you know it, Bobby."

"I know," I said, as Jean-Paul positioned himself to set us down atop one of the structures. 

"This one looks solid," he remarked. 

I looked at it, blinking away trepidation. He set me down gently on the top of the building, and he then landed next to me. The wind cut against my exposed face and I wished that I had brought a face mask.

"Isn't this amazing?" Jean-Paul enthused. "We are standing on top of this structure. We are probably the only people from earth to ever have stood here!"

I mumbled something to the effect of "Yeah." Maybe it was the cold getting to me or maybe I had just gotten used to living this way. But he was right; I should have been awe-struck by the simple fact that I was light years from earth and standing atop some completely alien structure, but I wasn't. Space travel and everything that went with it had become banal.

But, like I said, maybe it was just the fact that my toes were numb and I wanted to get back to the warmth of Freedom. 

"I wonder if this is where the people lived or if these were some sort of gathering places," Jean-Paul murmured as he surveyed the area. 

I listened to his words and suddenly felt sympathy. We should've brought Hank. He absolutely would've loved looking around and exploring. And yet we hadn't bothered to bring a video camera either, so Hank would have to rely only on our retelling of what we'd seen.

Once I thought of my best friend, I really opened my eyes and took in our surroundings. I wanted to be able to recall them for Hank. There were a cluster of buildings, perhaps a dozen, within visual range. All of them were dilapidated; we were standing on the one that was in the least amount of decay. The buildings were all fairly large. All of the structures looked as if they could have held a couple dozen people. Most contained no windows and only a sort-of oval-shaped entrance. A few of them contained chimneys. Of course, half the buildings were so decayed that I couldn't tell too many details about their structure.

I bent down and removed a glove. I gently ran my shivering hand along the rough texture of the building. "I wonder what this is made of," I murmured. "Feels like some kind of stone." It didn't have the texture of wood, and I didn't see any trees around either.

"Hey, look at that," Jean-Paul said, pointing. 

I followed his gaze. There were some markings on the side of the building next to the one we stood upon. The markings were in some sort of swirling shapes. Many contained concentric circles but there were other swirly designs too. They decorated the building in a variety of colors though mostly reds and browns. The more Jean-Paul and I looked around, the more we observed these markings on each and every crumbling structure. 

Jean-Paul picked me up and flew me around, so that we could observe the designs at closer range. We stood on the snowy ground now, looking at part of a wall – all that remained of the nearest structure.

I blinked as I studied the markings. "I've seen these somewhere before," I said.

Jean-Paul looked at me. "You have? Where?"

Baffled, I had to tell him that I didn't know. I couldn't place the alien symbols, only I knew I had seen them before and I wasn't crazy,

The cold started to get to us. The wind seemed to pick up, and Jean-Paul asked if I wanted to return to Freedom. He scooped me up in his arms and using his hyperspeed, delivered us back home in seconds.

**************

The Vengeance contained a mess hall, just as Freedom did. Storm decided that for her dinner that day, she would replicate only the **ingredients** of her meal rather than replicating the meal itself. To pass some time, she was going to cook tonight.

__

'We have gotten so far away from it,' Storm wrote in her journal earlier in the day. '_Living in this artificial, man-made environment with every convenience at our fingertips. If we want the bathroom cleaned, we have only to press a few buttons. If we don't like the temperature, we adjust it at our whim. If we want a full meal, we have only to press a few buttons. And yet our souls are starved for real, sensual experiences. What I wouldn't give to squint at a sun rise or to feel a breeze on the back of my neck.'_

Cooking dinner wouldn't quite satisfy the longings of Storm's senses, but it wouldn't hurt either. This meal would be for Storm's consumption only; Dani was with Marrow again.

The Vengeance was similar in lay-out to Freedom and therefore the dining areas were nearly identical. A large room contained long tables and multiple chairs. The front of the room contained the "kitchen" area, which was stocked with replicators as well as traditional kitchen equipment. A door and a long window separated the kitchen from the dining area. Standing in the kitchen, Storm began to prepare a meal. 

"Mmmmm….what is that smell?" 

Storm turned around to see that the woman known as Thyme had entered the kitchen. 

"I'm cooking dinner," Storm explained to the younger woman. "Roasted chicken with side dishes of string beans and mashed potatoes."

"It smells good. And….and, hey -- aren't you from Africa? Those dishes don't strike me as African cuisine."

"I do enjoy African cuisine, but I also enjoy food from around the globe. Truly there is no type of ethnic cuisine that I dislike. Besides, I spent the last few decades of my life on earth in the US, so I developed a taste for some traditional American dishes," Storm explained. "Would you like to eat with me? There's enough for more than one person."

"Sure."

The two women fell into a steady, though somewhat stilted, conversation as Storm finished preparing the food. Thyme seemed most at ease when asking Storm questions about her life, but she seemed loathe to reveal too much information about her own. Never before having had a chance to dialog with Thyme, Storm was eager to learn as much as she could about her.

Storm learned that Thyme's chosen appellation stemmed from a love of cooking. The herb "thyme" was one of the favorites of the woman (she never did reveal her real name, and Storm respected that.) She used to love to prepare a chicken dish slowly simmered in wine with thyme to season. "Thyme" had been her nickname for years.

"Have you cooked much since you joined the crew of the Vengeance?" Storm asked.

"No," Thyme replied. 

Thyme didn't share this with Storm, but she hadn't cooked at all since Marrow and Psylocke rescued her from FOH. The FOH soldiers who had imprisoned her used to force her to cook for them. They used to force her to prepare meals stark naked. Thyme had usually been allowed to wear only stiletto heels or sometimes a short apron as she prepared and served their food. They would stand around, leering at and groping her as she worked. The entire time her hands would shake, her body would barely move as she waited in terror for the assaults to begin. The soldiers didn't seem repelled by the bruises and scars covering her body.

"Do you like being a member of this crew?" Storm asked.

Thyme did. Enacting revenge on FOH was gloriously fulfilling. It was exciting and fun. Although the Pirates had encountered only two FOH vessels since Thyme had joined their crew (and none since Storm had), torturing and killing FOH soldiers was enormously gratifying. But she answered the question with only one word: "Yes."

Psylocke entered the dining area as Storm and Thyme were finishing off their meal. She declined Storm's offer of leftovers. Dismayed at seeing Thyme socializing (as with Roula, Thyme tended to keep to herself), Psylocke performed a brief scan of Storm's mind. She had to see if the X-woman was attempting to stir up trouble. After her perfunctory scan, she was satisfied with Storm's intentions.

*******************

When back inside Freedom, I made drawings of the symbols Jean-Paul and I had seen on the decaying buildings. I couldn't remember each and every design, but I did the best I could to approximate them, and Jean-Paul helped with that. Wolverine instantly knew where we seen them before.

"Ceti III," he said. "Some of the other prisoners had 'em tattooed on their backs."

Gambit apparently remembered too. "An' on deir faces. Some of dem wit'out tatttoos would take dat chalky substance on the groun' an' use it to draw dose designs on deir bodies."

"Of course!" I said, smacking my hand against my forehead. I was glad that Wolverine and Gambit had better memories than I did. If I had to make a guess, perhaps 10% of the other prisoners on Ceti III had such designs either tattooed or drawn on their bodies. Judging from the looks of the different humanoids there, the Cetians had captured and brought many different alien species and races from around the galaxy. We didn't know what the symbols meant to those prisoners who did display them on their bodies. Not sharing a common language, we couldn't speak with our fellow prisoners, obviously. We speculated that they were some sort of religious or cultural symbols. Maybe the symbols simply represented their alphabet.

"So what's it mean that you saw 'em on those structures?" Jubilee asked. 

"It can't be a coincidence," I offered.

"Maybe the bastards of Ceti III came to this planet and took the people back as slaves," Wolverine said. 

His explanation was the most logical, if also the most unsettling. Although Hank reminded us that it **was** possible that the resemblance of the symbols could be coincidental and that many different cultures had "similar archetypes." But Wolverine and Gambit weren't buying it. Jean-Paul flew both Wolverine and Gambit back out there on separate occasions to look at the symbols, and they agreed that they were definitely what we'd seen on Ceti III.

Whatever had happened, there wasn't a lot we could do. We still had our cloaking device and, if the Cetians ever returned, we had to hope that they couldn't detect it. Jean Grey performed telepathic scans as far into space as she could reach. We had to hope that between the two of those things, we'd be protected enough. Or that at least, if something was coming for us, we'd have enough forewarning. 

  
************

The following evening, Gambit was standing near one of the main airlocks, preparing for a trip outdoors. He was bundling himself in hats, gloves, and a scarf. He looked at a face mask and decided on placing it inside his coat's pocket.

"You're gonna brave the outdoors?" Bobby asked, as he walked by.

Gambit looked up and smiled. "It's a clear night out dere tonight. I wanna go look at the stars."

Bobby looked around. "No Rogue to join you?"

"She's tired. She went to lay down after dinner."

Gambit saw Bobby get a look in his eyes and then hesitate. He knew what Bobby was going to ask and Gambit tried to understand why, after several years of the two of them being pretty close friends, Bobby still acted unsure of where he stood. "Do you want some company?"

"Of course," Gambit said, glad that Bobby had gotten up the gumption to ask the question. "'Dough I doubt I gonna last out dere as long as dis boy from the Midwest will."

Bobby smiled and reached for one of the coats stored near the airlock. As he watched Bobby don the different layers of protection, Gambit knew that it was a bit more than his friend's still-bruised self-confidence that had caused him to hesitate. `Mus' still be the whole gay-straight t'ing,' Remy speculated. Perhaps Bobby was still wary of straight men or, more accurately, wary of being perceived as too eager to truly befriend one. He still acted with an unsettling air of deference around them. 'After all we been t'rough, he still be like dis. Maybe it never gonna change.' Northstar was so different, Gambit observed. He apparently didn't experience any of those types of mental struggles Bobby put himself through and he wouldn't think twice of asking someone he liked to spend some time with him. Despite all the counseling both members of the couple had been through, it still appeared that one had a slight excess of self-confidence and the other a slight deficit. 

The two men stepped out through the airlock. This time, fortunately, no gusts of wind assaulted their faces. It was a very still night, though with freezing temperatures below zero. Feeling the uncomfortable cold hit his face again, Gambit asked himself why he had so badly wanted to see the stars tonight.

"Dat's why," he murmured out loud. Tilting their heads upwards, he and Bobby took in a breathtaking view of the bright stars.

"It's so clear. You can see them so well," Bobby breathed.

It was true. Without any blaring lights from the planet below, the heavens appeared more bright and shimmering, like a jewelry boutique's layout of glittery diamonds and shining necklaces against a black back-drop, lit up and on display. It was quiet, too. The giant starship emitted a steady hum, but other than that, silence was present in every direction. Breathing in the sweet air with his eyes feasting on the stars, Gambit nearly felt disoriented. He and Bobby seemed enveloped in the dark sky and bright stars.

"Dat one almost looks like the Big Dipper," Gambit pointed. "Well, kinda."

"I definitely see a box-shape there," Bobby said. "I can't believe how well we can see the stars here." After a pause, he asked, "Did you ever go star-gazing back on earth?"

"Sure. A few times anyway. When it wasn't dis cold."

"We're too far away from earth to be able to see our sun from here, right?"

"Nah, I don't t'ink we be able to see it from here. 'Dough Hank might know for sure."

"I gotta bring him out here some night." Bobby then added, tilting his head back down, "I wonder what we're doing here."

"What you mean, Bobby?"

"I mean, I wonder why the X-men were brought here. What the reason was?"

"You t'ink dere's some plan to what happens?" Gambit asked. He wondered it too. He still simmered with guilt over leaving the people on Nari Silara who had helped him.

"Maybe. I – I'm not religious, you know, but I do kinda get the sense that things happen for a reason. Like, I think we ended up stranded on the Paradise Planet so we could go through some kind of healing. Some time to regroup. I'm wondering why we ended up stranded here."

Gambit was silent for a moment. He did believe that destiny had more control over their lives than they wished to admit. "We maybe not know for years," he finally murmured.

"It was weird seeing the ruins of the city that was captured by the Cetians," Bobby said. "If that's what they were. Made me wonder why that happened back then. Why we ended up their slaves for a while."

"Dunno if dere was a purpose to dat one," Gambit said. He remembered Northstar carrying him to go look at the ruins. He knew that Northstar had liked holding him in his arms as he flew him to the ruins. Though Northstar had behaved as a perfect gentleman during the journey.

Bobby shrugged. "You did teach me a lot about patience. And about optimism there. You kept saying we'd be rescued, and you were right. You helped keep me able to get up in the mornings."

Gambit kept his mouth shut, wishing now that Bobby would do the same. The last thing he wanted to do was remember those miserable days working in the mine – or to experience the possibility that the Cetians would return to this planet in search of more slaves. 

Maybe Bobby got the idea that Gambit had no desire to explore this topic. He looked at Gambit and asked him, "So how've you been lately? How far along is the baby now?"

"'Bout eight or nine weeks now. We still got couple weeks before the second trimester starts."

Bobby could tell from Gambit's voice that he was still feeling a bit of what he'd actually once confided to Bobby on the warm beaches of An'zhina. They had had this discussion long ago; far before Rogue ever conceived. 

"Are you still feeling a little ambivalent about having a baby?" Bobby asked with trepidation.

This time his hesitation was called for. Gambit didn't want to discuss it. "I'm freezin'," Gambit said. "Let's go back in."

They silently headed for the air lock and stepped in. Yes, he still felt ambivalence about becoming a father. He still wanted Rogue all to himself, selfish as that may have been. He knew that once you became a parent, it was forever. Their lives would never be the same. Jean and Scott and Jubilee might make it seem easy, but the observant Cajun had overheard enough conversations to know that parenthood wasn't all about cuddling an adorable toddler. It also involved babies crying through the night, eardrums ringing, dirty diapers, losing patience with toddlers who talked back at you, spit-ups on clothing, scheduled un-spontaneous sex with one's partner, and limits on free time.

Remy especially didn't care for the last two of those. Once the baby arrived, so few things in his and Rogue's lives would be left impromptu, and Gambit didn't care for having to plan and calculate each moment of his leisure time. 

'Den again, dere won't **be** no leisure time once the baby arrives,' he said to himself.

And, he hated to admit to himself how selfish it sounded, but he liked having sex with Rogue every day. They rarely went for a day or two without making love; they both loved sex. Once the pregnancy progressed and the baby arrived, Gambit knew that long, bleak stretches without sex lay ahead of him. He dreaded it. And he quietly swallowed the shame he felt for his selfish desire to keep Rogue's body all to himself. The baby was an intruder to their sensual joy, as terrible as it sounded.

He also feared how the baby might change them. 'Jubilee's never been the same since she had the baby,' he thought. He knew that the changes to Jubilee's personality also were due to the experiences she'd lived through as well as simply growing older and mature. But the spontaneous, rebellious teenager was mostly gone, due in no small measure to little Aurora.

'Can't do anyt'ing 'bout dis now,' Gambit thought. That day on the An'zhinian beach, Bobby had advised Gambit to discuss this with Rogue, to share his concerns with her. He had chosen not to, and now it was too late to go back. He had to once again, as he did on Ceti III, muster the ability to hope for the best.

Once back inside the starship, the two men removed the protective layers of clothing they'd donned. After Bobby hung up his coat, Gambit put a hand on Bobby's back and gave it a few pats. "Didn't mean to ignore your question, mon ami," he said. "Jus' don't feel like talkin' 'bout it now."

"I understand," Bobby replied. And he did. 

**************

After experiencing the cold of the outdoors, Gambit was eager to return to the cozy room he shared with Rogue. The room was dark, lit by only a few candles.

"There you are, sugar," Rogue cooed. "I thought you were never comin' back in." Rogue lay on the bed, wearing some lingerie that had been replicated on An'zhina. This ensemble was made up of an emerald green nightgown accented with a lacy top. Gambit nearly licked his lips at thoughts of what lay beneath the nightgown.

"Had I known dere be dis beautiful woman jus' waitin' for me, I wouldda hurried back faster," his smooth voice replied. He felt his loins stirring already at the sight of her. She crossed one leg over the other, and in doing so her skirt was hiked up. He gazed at the fullness of her thighs. Rogue tilted her head back and shook out her glossy hair. She then reached her hands to cup her breasts. 

Although every urge in his body commanded him to disrobe as quickly as possible, Gambit knew the advantages of drawing it out. Undressing slowly allowed her to savor the view of his body, which would increase her desire -- thereby increasing his. As he removed his apparel, he made eye contact with Rogue and held it. She reached a hand down and began to stroke the area of her crotch. Gambit's eyes grew wider at the delectable sight.

Seeing that he was enjoying watching her, Rogue spread her legs even further apart. She moved the fabric of her thong panty to the side and made a show of touching her wetness. "Mmmm, Remy. I need you here now," she purred. 

"Chere, I'm gonna give you everyt'in you want. You gonna lay back and I'm gonna lick you till you moanin' and screamin," he promised. 

Rogue sighed again and deftly removed her nightgown. Now clad in a thong and see-through bra, she slowly moved the bra's material away to the sides, to place her thick breasts on display. They were now larger and fuller than ever, the nipples also having begun to enlarge. With a moan, Gambit nearly pounced on her. His tongue snaked out a nipple and encircled it before gently biting down on the flesh. 

Remy moved upwards on her body to kiss her lips. Delighting in the kiss, he knew it wouldn't last too long. By now, the lovers were attuned to each other's desires, and both knew that a long, drawn-out loving session was not in the works for tonight. Eros ruled their bodies for now, and they would have to indulge their base desires. Still, their lips and tongues danced together, Remy adoring the feeling of her mouth. He lapped at her tongue. Gently, he moved his mouth to the side and kissed the side of her mouth, returning to lick her lips and insert his tongue inside once more.

Soon, however, Remy snaked back down her body. His cock was engorged and throbbing. Tonguing his way downwards, he reached her pussy, which was already dripping wet. He gently breathed a stream of warm air against her, before putting his lips and tongue to work. Licking and sucking her labia, he enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by her thighs and legs, and listening to her moans. He inserted his tongue into her passageway and treated her to a rigorous tongue fucking. He stayed with that for several minutes, knowing he would soon move on as she liked it when he paid a lot of attention to her clit.

Gradually, with the adept skill of a fine artist, he worked his way to that tiny piece of her anatomy, which begged for attention. Using the flat part of his tongue, Remy licked. Her earthy scent intoxicated him. One of his hands reached upwards and continued to stroke other parts of her body as his tongue drove her towards bliss. Remy moaned and made other sounds with his mouth as he stroked her clit, knowing how much Rogue enjoyed the sensual feeling of the vibrations. She couldn't resist bucking her hips against him. He kept up with her and stayed on her, bringing her to a loud fulfillment. 

Rogue collapsed against the bed when he was finished, sighing with delight. "Oh god, Remy. You're amazin'," she breathed. "You're like this fuckin' sex god." She knew he liked to be reminded of his prowess, and her words were heartfelt. 

He smiled, sitting back on his knees. He stroked his own hardness for a few seconds. It stood long and erect. 

"You look like you could use some attention," she said, smiling. She had a twinkle in her eyes as she rolled over to position herself on hands and knees. 

Remy's head started to spin. He liked all different positions and ways of making love, but this one was high on his list. He licked her backside enthusiastically, before inserting his cock within her wetness.

It was sweaty sexual glee from then on. Remy thrust inside of her, feeling the intense pleasure as he penetrated her. She was so wet and so welcoming – his mouth had seen to that. He could reach around and cup her breasts, feeling the fullness in his palms and moving his fingers around the hard nipples. For several strokes, he gripped her hips in his hands and rapidly pumped away, feeling the heat from her body. He then slowed his pace, reaching fingers around to caress Rogue's clit. It was starting to resume interest in him. He then continued plundering her depths at a slower pace, waiting for her to again climb up the mountain with him. Remy had the patience. If he could have, he would spend most of his days and nights doing this. 

Her arousal started to match his, urging towards a ripe fulfillment. Remy then worked the speed of his body faster once more, eagerly plunging in and out in time with her. "Oh god," Rogue groaned again, shuddering with her climax. He followed a moment behind, releasing his hot cum. 

The two lay panting on the bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Rogue nuzzled her face against him, breathing in the sweat and other sensual scents. Remy reached a hand to wipe his brow. 

***************

****

TO BE CONTINUED!

__

Notes from the author….

First, congratulations to Vicol! Vicol got the highest number of correct answers on the quiz from last time. If you need a list of answers, just write me. (stormkpr@usa.net)

Secondly, I now share with you a list:

****

The Top 10 Things That Annoy Professor X Lately:

1. We're on the third book in the series, over 1200 pages have been written, and the Professor hasn't had one "love scene" yet

2. Patrick Stewart said he might not be in X3

3. Stormkpr seems to have totally forgotten about Cerebro II.

4. Has no one to provide "father figure" to now that Scott's gone

5. Moira's still with Banshee

6. X-men's recruiting strategy a complete failure

7. Sitting down to morning tea and scones with Moira isn't exactly a revolutionary act, though watching the salsa lessons was kinda fun

8. He misses the witty rapport between Wolverine and Cyclops 

9. Didn't get to go head-to-head with Dagron

10. Despite Marvel's love for bringing the dead back to life, there are no signs that Magneto's gonna be in this.

****


	20. Chapter 20

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER TWENTY

*****************

Dani Moonstar missed Bobby Drake. She pretty much missed all of the X-men, of course, but Bobby was the one who popped into her head that moment. She liked that he was so open. You could talk about whatever you wanted with him and he had just this bit of innocence about him too. 

He was different than Dani, though; that she knew. Bobby had grown up ashamed of being gay. For Dani, her lesbianism was always a point of pride. The youth group that inspired her so much during her formative group had been led by strong, capable women, a few of whom were lesbians. When she met Bobby and became friends with him, she could tell that he admired her pride and her chutzpah.

'Being a dyke –and **liking** being a dyke -- doesn't necessarily mean you fall in love with the idea of going down on a woman, though,' she thought to herself. Moonstar fondly remembered back to the first time she ever performed oral sex. She felt anxiety and even a measure of fear, not knowing what the other girl's genitalia would taste or smell like, or even exactly what it would look like. But it had been okay and Dani had triumphantly recorded the event in her journal. Gradually, she came to enjoy it and had lost the anxiety.

Marrow didn't usually allow herself to be touched in such an intimate way, though. She usually didn't like to be touched much at all, though their regular massage sessions were slowly helping to change that. One evening during their coupling, Marrow did ask Dani to go down on her (technically, she didn't "ask" using words, but her body language had instead made the request quite clear.) When Dani did so, Marrow nearly jumped three feet into the air. 

"Sensitive spot?" Dani asked. 

Marrow grunted in the affirmative. She then added, "Gimme a sec."

Dani remained where she was. She never had really gotten a good look at Marrow's "down there area" (as Dani's grandmother had referred to it.) Things didn't look quite right, Dani observed that night. Scar tissue, perhaps, resulting from the FOH soldier assaults? 'Though I guess you can't expect a woman named Marrow who has a bone sticking out above her clit to have normal 'down theres," Dani mused. Besides, Dani had never been promiscuous; she could count her ex-lovers all on one hand with fingers to spare, so she hadn't exactly seen lots of different women's private areas to compare Marrow's to. 

Marrow released a long, slow breath. "Okay. Can you try it again?"

"I'd love to," Dani replied. She wasn't being dishonest either.

Marrow tolerated it. Dani could tell she wasn't enjoying it all that much. It might've been the awkward position they had to take. Due to the number of bones bulging from Marrow's back, she could not lay on her back and had assumed a half-sitting position with Dani kneeling before her. Dani wondered if it was more than their semi-awkward position, though. Marrow just preferred to call the shots in the bedroom, in general, rather than doing anything passive. Too reminiscent of the rapes perhaps, Dani mused. `Interesting that it didn't affect me the same way,' she thought before quickly banishing any thoughts of her own assaults. Being forced to assume the role of Marrow's girlfriend may not have been paradise, but anything was better than her own hellish weeks in the FOH camps. 

Dani brushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on what she was doing. When she brought a few fingers around to compliment the work of her tongue, she felt Marrow shudder and heard a few grunting noises. Mission accomplished.

Later, the two women were dressing. "Hey, it's gonna be dinner time soon!" Marrow realized.

Dani smiled at the near-childish glee in Marrow's voice. She actually felt it too. "Let's go!"

They eagerly headed for the mess hall. Marrow extended her hand and Dani took it within her own. 

It was Roula's turn to cook tonight, and Dani especially loved Middle Eastern food. She hoped that Roula would again prepare some dishes from her homeland. Since the evening Storm prepared dinner with Thyme, cooking days had become almost regular events on board the Vengeance. Slowly but surely, all the members of the crew participated even if it was only to eat rather than cook. (Neither Psylocke nor Marrow ever cooked and Dani had to admit it wasn't her favorite activity either.) But there actually were days when all six members of the crew sat down and ate together.

The first time Marrow had tried Roula's Middle Eastern cooking, she remarked at how "weird" the food tasted. But it had grown on her and Marrow had come around to enjoying it.

Scooping some tabouli up with her pita bread, Dani wondered if what Storm hoped for was actually starting to blossom. As she chewed the tangy bite, she acknowledged that oftentimes dinner conversation among the Vengeance's crew was minimal. When it happened, it was often stilted and choppy too. Still, it was starting to happen. 

Dani spoke with Storm in the gym the following morning. "I don't really know how successful it is," Storm admitted. "I know almost nothing more about Roula then I did when I set foot aboard this ship. What I know about Thyme can fill half a page in my journal." Storm preferred journaling in pen and paper rather than on a computer, Dani knew. Storm's handwriting was blissfully clear and neat, and she made her letters large. 

"Well, it's a start," Dani said as she walked on the treadmill. She glanced at her heart-rate monitor and tried to pick up the pace. When their year was up, she had to be in X-man shape and right now did not feel as if she could even take on Toad if Toad were wearing a collar. "You have to start somewhere."

"Next time I'm in the kitchen with Roula and Thyme, I think I will ask them if they want to participate in a healing ceremony." She exhaled as she set down the weight she'd lifted. "Will you join us?"  


"Of course! But, uh, Storm I hope you won't be too upset if **they** decline. They don't seem like they're….there yet."

"I know. But asking won't hurt. It might at least implant the idea in their minds. What about inviting Marrow?"

"Marrow? At a healing ceremony?" Dani shook her head. "I just can't see it. Ever."

"Perhaps in time," Storm replied, sounding patient. "Have you discussed with her the event that 

we might encounter another FOH ship?"

"No." She wished Storm would cease asking about this. Dani didn't want to preach to Marrow the evils of violence. Spitting into the ocean might be more effective. And no matter what, Marrow certainly did not wish to use Marrow's infatuation (she refused to term it "love") to try to sway her. Dani looked for a new topic. "Hey, Storm, when you're done with that, will you coach me in using my powers again? They feel rusty."

"Of course. I would be glad to."

***************

Rogue woke one morning with vague cramps in her abdominal region. Through the haziness of slumber, she half-consciously dismissed the unpleasant sensations and instinctively nestled closer to Remy. The starship was warm enough, but just the knowledge that the outdoors was so cold made her seek out the warmth of Remy.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Rogue found herself waking again. This time, the cramps were stronger. As she gradually opened her eyes and tried to flee the grogginess, she became aware of another feeling. Wetness. 

Rogue sat bolt upright, her eyes open and the sleep gone. Hoisting the lower half of her body up an inch, she pulled down her panties.

Blood. She was bleeding, and had already stained her panties. A few drops had leaked onto the sheets.

"Remy!!" she screeched.

Minutes later, Gambit had carried the strong woman to sick bay where Hank met them. Hank had run all the way from his quarters. The pleasant sleep was gone, replaced by stabbing knives of fear-drenched adrenaline.

"Oh please oh please lord don't let it be….." Rogue broke off her prayer, not even wanting to say the dreaded word. 

Hank silently and efficiently drew blood from Rogue. "We will have the results of the hormone test in three to four minutes."

"What will it mean, Hank?" Rogue asked, her voice quivering. Remy stood by her side, holding her clammy hand. He remained quiet but periodically placed his other hand on his wife's shoulder or face. 

"We will review your hormone levels," he stated, knowing he was sounding clinical and detached. Yet he needed to be this way. Visible nervousness from him would worsen the tense situation. "If your hormone levels show a significant decrease, it means that miscarriage is possible. Or likely," he corrected himself. 

"What if they ain't declined?" Remy asked. "Or ain't declined dat much?"

"Then it is possible that there is no cause for alarm."

"How can there be no cause for alarm? I'm bleedin'!" Rogue exclaimed. She looked down towards her midsection and then closed her eyes, trying to will away the image of red blood against her white panties.

"The blood loss, however, appears to have ceased for now," Hank said. "Let us wait for the hormone test results."

"Chere, try to take a few breat's," Remy advised softly. "Everyt'ings gonna be okay."

Rogue sat against the infirmary bed's backrest. She decided to follow her husband's advice; she had been holding her breath forever it seemed. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, almost painfully forcing the air out through her mouth. Her hands still shook and she still felt the sickening feeling in the vicinity of her heart and stomach. Cramps still assaulted her as well. She looked at Remy and squeezed his hand tighter.

Remy looked at his wife. Her face had turned ghostly pale. "We gonna be okay chere," he repeated, this time his voice just above a whisper. He also felt the sickness within his belly, the dread growing. Deep within his bones, he knew what Hank's test would reveal. `You always get what you want, Remy,' he thought to himself. `You didn't want a baby and you knew it….'

Remy bent his head down to kiss Rogue's hand. His lips were dry. But the gallant gesture brought a smile to Rogue's face. Through the haze of her own panic, she sensed that her husband was worried but she also knew he would be strong for her.

The wait for the test results remained agonizing and time seemed to stand still. The husband and wife stood looking at each other, each seeing their fear reflected in the other's eyes.

Hank stood at a respectful distance from the couple. The wait for the test results was excruciating for him too. He also had the knowledge that there was nothing he could do now except wait for the result and to give them their privacy. 

Minutes later, Hank stood looking at the read-out. Within less than a second's time, his mind flashed back to another horrible day, less than a year ago. He was sitting in his laboratory, looking at the results of an HIV test. His innards felt as if they were being turned inside out and he struggled to think of what he would tell his best friend and his best friend's lover. 

Within that second's time, he realized that today he again faced an equally harrowing task.

He turned around to face the couple. "I am sorry to have to bear bad news. Rogue, your hormone levels do appear to be declining. This probably means that you are losing the baby."

****************

Remy and Rogue remained in sick bay, with Hank keeping a distance but available as needed. At one point, Bobby walked in. He was worried when he hadn't seen Hank at breakfast.

"Rogue and Gambit are experiencing some difficulties," Hank whispered to Bobby in the doorway. He needn't have whispered though; the couple wasn't listening. "Let us allow Rogue and Gambit their privacy."

"Of course," Bobby whispered back. Hank hadn't said in so many words what was happening, but Bobby looked around and guessed at the truth. The look on Hank's face said it all. Bobby walked back to the mess hall and ate no breakfast. 

Rogue's bleeding had resumed with a vengeance. Her cramps intensified. Hank offered her a pain reliever but she declined. 

***************

Bobby returned to the dining room and sat down next to Northstar. Most everyone was in the mess hall, enjoying breakfast.

"Is Hank okay?" Cyclops asked as he spoon-fed his son. 

"Yeah, he's fine," Bobby managed. He looked at the food on his plate and felt his stomach turning.

"Rory, you sit back down!" Jubilee admonished. The toddler was attempting to stand up in her high chair. 

"No!" Rory replied. She picked up some food and squished it between her fingers.

"Just what in tarnation you think you're doin', young lady?" Sam, with a smile on his face, asked the girl. He got up and picked Rory up. The toddler rubbed her dirty hand on Sam's shoulder.

Conversation resumed as normal. Northstar reached for Bobby's hand. "What's wrong, amour?" he whispered. "You look sick."

"I think something's really wrong," he whispered back, as quietly as possible. Jeanne-Marie sat on her brother's other side and craned her neck around to hear better. 

"What is it?" Jeanne-Marie asked. 

Despite the fact that most of the others in the dining room were apparently distracted by Rory's petulant behavior, Bobby still did not want to be heard. He cocked his head towards the door, and the three made an exit.

"Is it something with Hank?" Northstar asked, as they stood in a semi-circle in the deserted corridor.

"No. You guys, I think Rogue's sick and maybe it's a miscarriage," Bobby said.

"What??" Jeanne-Marie asked. Rogue and Gambit's absence from the breakfast table had not been missed. They rarely rose early enough to eat their morning meal with most of the rest of the team anyway.

"I got a glimpse of her and Gambit in sick bay. She was sitting on one of the beds and they both looked white as ghosts. It looked like maybe she'd been bleeding. I….I don't know, but what else could it be? They looked….they looked like two people who had just lost a baby."

**************

Remy sat next to Rogue on the bed. After a while, she was tired of sitting or laying down, and she got up and walked around sick bay. 

"My god Hank how much blood is there gonna be?" she asked. It was midday now. At this point, Rogue was standing, slightly leaning against Remy who was supporting her. Her voice had ceased shaking. She had been bleeding sporadically and didn't want to leave sick bay until it stopped.

Hank had spent most of the morning sitting at a computer screen, researching miscarriage. "It is difficult to estimate exactly how much blood you will lose. As of right now, the amount appears to be normal. I will continue to monitor you." Earlier he had shared with the couple that the bleeding could end soon or it might continue for several more hours. 

"Could she get some kinda infection from dis?" Remy's hands were against Rogue's shoulders.

"It is possible," Hank answered. He struggled for words. "Sometimes tissue remains inside the uterus, preventing it from closing up. If that occurs, we will need to perform a procedure to clean it out and prevent an infection."

'Tissue.' The word echoed inside Rogue's head. It wasn't 'tissue', damn it, it was the beginnings of her baby. The beginnings of a dream. And it was a dream that was now coming to a tragic end.

Shortly after lunch, Cyclops stopped by the infirmary. He wanted to seek out Hank so that they could get to work on the engines. Hank told Cyclops that he would need to defer for today "due to a medical situation."

"Oh," Cyclops replied. He looked around the infirmary and, for a second, his visor locked with Gambit's eyes. Scott nearly seemed to flinch before saying something quick to Beast and leaving sick bay.

Suddenly Remy LeBeau was filled with hatred for Scott Summers. As he watched Scott leave sick bay, Remy had to clench a fist. `Dere he goes. He got dose two beat'ful children, dey had no problems. Not'in' ever goes wrong for dem….Goddamn him.' 

Remy tried to halt that train of thought. It was true, of course, that Scott had two healthy children but his life had been no picnic either. `Hatin' Cyke ain't gonna make dis any easier,' Remy sighed to himself. Though for a moment or two it had actually had provided some sort of relief, a sense of stubborn self-righteousness. `I gotta rise above dat,' he said to himself. He didn't really want to, though, that day. 

Hank's words interrupted his train of thought. "My friends," he began softly, "I am certain that the others will want to console you. Shall I tell them-----"

"Tell 'em nothin'," Rogue snapped. She then added, feeling guilty for her harshness, "Sorry, Hank. But I don't want any sympathy right now."

"I don't t'ink we ready for it now," Gambit added. 

"Whatever you wish."

"Hank, if you gotta get to work on the engines, you can go. Ain't much for you to do here but watch me bleed." Rogue didn't know where the words were coming from or from where she even got the strength to speak.

"I would prefer to remain here, if you do not mind. I would like to closely monitor you and…." he paused, "and continue to study the subject of miscarriage. If you would like additional privacy, I can situate myself in the laboratory."

In addition to housing a computer station inside the infirmary itself, a room with a door that closed served as a lab/office for Hank. 

"Maybe dat's not a bad idea," Gambit suggested.

*************

Around the end of the day, Rogue's bleeding tapered off and finally ceased. Hank examined her and felt confident that they would not need to perform a procedure to remove the any remaining fetal tissue. "As far as I can tell," he summarized, his voice quiet, "your blood loss has not been excessive. You should be alright."

Rogue nodded, not making eye contact with Hank. 

Hank added that he would study the "fetal tissue" and attempt to determine the cause of the miscarriage. The rueful couple thanked him.

"If we need anyt'in', we'll call you," Remy said.

Hank nodded and took that as his cue to leave the couple alone. Gambit sank down into a chair next to the bed. For the moment, Rogue didn't have the desire to sit up. Sick bay was silent except for the even hum of a few pieces of equipment and the omnipresent sounds of the life support system,

"Do you wanna talk 'bout it?" Remy asked, breaking the silence. 

"No," Rogue said. She remained laying down but did turn her head in her husband's direction. "Not now anyway."

"Me neit'er."

More silence for several long moments. Then Remy spoke again, "Chere, why don't you go ahead and cry. It will make you feel better."

"Can't do it right now. I jus' feel numb."

"Me too."

"And weak. Too tired to cry."

Remy reached to once again hold her hand. They had been in almost constant physical contact this day. "You want me to bring you somet'in? Maybe you oughtta try and eat."

"I can't. I'd just throw it back up."

"How 'bout somet'in to help you sleep?"

Rogue thought about it. Her mind felt as if frozen into a lifeless block of ice. Yet her innards still cramped and a dull ache assailed her heart and gut. Finally she answered, "That would be nice. I kinda like the idea of bein' knocked out."

"I'll call Beast back."

"Remind him it takes somethin' extra strong to knock me out." Her voice continued to be expressionless. 

Just as Gambit reached for the communicator, the swooshing sound of the door moving aside was heard. No one entered sick bay; instead, a knock was heard against the doorway. Upon receiving no reply, Bobby Drake stuck his head through the doorway.

Bobby was carrying a large plant. It had a multitude of brightly hued, floppy green leaves. "I'm sorry for interrupting," he said. His voice was somber. "This is from the greenhouse. It's a gift from all of us. We---we're sorry about your loss."

Gambit didn't look at him. He had no energy to be angry that word had gotten out, despite their wishes. It was inevitable, he supposed. His only acknowledgement of Bobby was a nod. Bobby wordlessly set the plant down on one of the counters. numb

Rogue hadn't made eye contact with Bobby either but she softly muttered a thank you. Bobby quickly exited the infirmary.

*************

Scott and Jean each planted a kiss on Christopher's cheek before tucking him in for the night. Charlotte's bedtime was later. The parents sat down with their daughter and read to her until she nodded off. She knew now that it was not appropriate to vocalize the emotions of other people. "Uncle Remy and Aunt Rogue" were miserable, she knew it, but she also knew that enough other people sensed it and she should keep quiet on that fact. Her parents carried her to her bed where she fell into a fitful sleep.

Sitting down next to each other on their own bed, Scott and Jean felt tired and deflated.

"I feel so sorry for them," Jean murmured. She shivered.

"Me too. I can't even imagine what they're going through," Scott said. 

"A plant hardly seems adequate to express our sympathies. But," she added, after a pause, "I don't know what else we can do."

Scott nodded. He sure didn't imagine that either Rogue or Gambit would want to talk about it, especially not now and especially not with him.

"I never realized how lucky we were," Scott said, after he and his wife had dressed for bed and settled underneath the covers.

**************

Jeanne-Marie and her brother were hanging out in the greenhouse, watching as Bobby attended to his plants.

"The one you picked for them was the nicest one," Northstar observed.

"Yeah. But a plant just doesn't cut it. I don't know what else we can do for them," Bobby remarked as he misted a tomato plant.

"Well, truly there is not much that we **can** do. It is their loss and they have to grieve in time, and in their own way."

Jeanne-Marie leaned against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "At least their baby was only a few weeks along. It wasn't even born yet! I had my son taken away from me by FOH, and he was seven years old then. I raised him, I loved him, and I had to part with him. Where is the sympathy for me?!"

"Mon dieu, Jeanne-Marie! Try to show some compassion!" Jean-Paul scolded. He bit his tongue to keep from making any choice comments about Stephan's brattiness or Jeanne-Marie's own self-imposed withdrawal from the group.

"Where was the compassion for me??" she repeated.

Bobby winced as he sensed what was coming back. Another tempestuous fray between the twins. He tried to tune it out as he resumed tending to his vegetables.

****************

Jubilee, Rory, Cannonball, Wolverine, Shaman, Wraith, and Nightcrawler sat inside the rec room. Due to efforts at conserving dilithium, the group agreed to only cue up Endarian films once per week. Virtually everyone had seen each Endarian movie they'd brought along anyway. So today no film would be shown, but the group still sat in a semi-circle. A deck of cards was parked on a nearby table but no one made a move to reach for them. No one spoke much either for a while.

"I hope the plant wasn't totally lame," Hector mumbled, finally breaking the silence.

"I wonder if her powers could've done it," Jubilee said glumly, after several seconds of silence had passed.

"She got control of 'em," Wolverine said.

"I know, but having a baby is different. Maybe she---" Jubilee broke off, not sure where her thought had been going. "Or I wonder if the coma she was in—or the mess with Dagron---could've had anything to do with it."

"Maybe there ain't any reason for what happened," Sam offered. "It coullda been just one of those things."

Hector nodded. "I read that one out of every five or six pregnancies ends in miscarriage." As Hank's medical assistant, he had read up on pregnancy as soon as Rogue announced that she was expecting. "And the earlier in the pregnancy, the greater chance of miscarriage. Rogue wasn't finished with the first trimester, and that's when trouble tends to happen. And scientifically speaking, early miscarriages often are nature's way of screening out future problems." 

Jubilee absentmindedly looked down at Rory, who was currently playing by herself in a corner with a train set. The trains and the track had been constructed by Wolverine, almost entirely by hand.

`How can stuff like this happen?' Jubilee silently wondered. She loved her own daughter, but the pregnancy itself was the result of a gruesomely violent act, and there had been many times when Jubilee had not wanted to be pregnant. Yet Rory was as healthy as a toddler could be. Meanwhile, Rogue and Gambit loved each other, seemingly were ready to become parents, and they had such a tragic outcome of their first pregnancy. 'Is there any logic in this crazy galaxy at all?'

"I will pray for them," Kurt said. "I encourage all of you to do so."

"I will do so." Shaman said. After a pause he added, almost as if an afterthought, "Silver Moon and I lost a baby."

Heads turned to look at him. The former Alpha Flight member tended to keep to himself and spoke infrequently. 

"Really?" Jubilee asked.

"After Lily Pearl was born, we tried to have another. Silver Moon miscarried in the first trimester," he spoke wistfully. "I truly believe that it happened for a reason. I might not understand that reason, but I know that it just was not meant to be." Shaman was then quiet for several moments. 

"I wonder if they'll ever try to have another," Jubilee murmured after a while.

"They're strong and tough. They dealt with a lot worse and they can get through this," Wolverine said.

************

Rogue couldn't talk about it without bursting into tears. She didn't want anyone – not really even Gambit---to see her crying. Her lips stayed pursed together.

Gambit paced their small room. He didn't want to see or talk to the others and he didn't want to leave Rogue. At one point last night, he'd brought the plant from sick bay to their room, and he kept glancing at it.

Last night, Rogue had slept the sleep of the traumatized. Her dreamless slumber had been fitful. She woke up often, only occasionally fell back asleep, and finally rose from bed a few hours before lunchtime, with the sensation of having not slept at all. She threw herself in the shower, hoping it might rejuvenate her, but it didn't. After Remy dried her off and she threw on a bathrobe, she lay on the bed for hours. She was on her back, her heart beating rapidly. She tried to not think, tried to banish the sensations of blood flowing out of her, of life being sucked out.

"Let's go outside," Gambit suggested at one point that day. "It's sunny outside today. An' we gotta get outta dis room."

Rogue started to say that she had no desire to leave the room, but thought better of it. She dressed herself, and the couple walked towards the airlock. Fortunately by Rogue's perspective, they did not run into anyone in the corridor.

The pair remained outdoors for less than three minutes. The sunlight glared today; it pierced their sunglasses. And the biting cold remained, easily piercing through their coats, gloves, and hats. They eagerly returned to Freedom.

Rogue left her gloves on. At Gambit's quizzical look, she just shrugged. Rogue missed gloves. She realized she liked the feeling of layers protecting her hands. 

"How 'bout a workout?" Gambit suggested.

"Nah. Remy, thanks and all. I jus' don't wanna do anythin' today."

Fair enough, Remy decided. They walked back towards their room.

"You go ahead and work out," Rogue suggested. "I'll be okay."

"You sure, chere?"

She was. After planting a kiss on his wife's face, Gambit made his way to the gym and exercised. 

Rogue had resumed laying on the bed, dozing off and on as the afternoon went by. Never before could she recall feeling so weak. Gambit brought her a meal, but – though he pleaded with her -- she only ate a few bites. The dish of buttery black-eyed peas and steamed greens, favorites from her childhood, failed to rouse her.

Several hours later, a knock was heard at the couple's door. Gambit sat on a chair beside Rogue.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's Hank. I have some information regarding the results of the analysis I performed."

Gambit looked at Rogue. She gave a limp nod.

"Come in, Hank."

Hank stepped through the doorway. "I suppose I should dispense with the usual pleasantries," he began.

Gambit gave a half-hearted smile. "Hank, t'anks for all you been doin' for us."

"That is why I am here. Why I am a doctor. I believe that you will be glad to hear the information I have."

Rogue's ears perked up and she looked in Hank's direction.

"The miscarriage appears to have been a random event. As far as I can tell, it was a fluke and is due to no genetic….abnormalities between the two of you. My research suggests that in your case, the egg and sperm simply failed to divide as they should. In most such cases, it means again that the miscarriage was a random event. I must again stress that this is a common—though no less tragic---occurrence." 

"So dat means we can try again some day." Gambit asked, though the sentence came out sounding more as a statement than question.

"Yes. I also wanted to let you know that I came across a recent study of couples who have experienced miscarriage. Out of those who have experienced two or three miscarriages, 55 to 60% of them eventually go on to have a baby. This particular study did not address those couples who had experienced only one miscarriage. In that situation, in all likelihood, the chances are even greater of one day having a baby." He looked at both Rogue and Gambit, and found their expressions almost unreadable. "I know that this news may not elevate your mood now; you must grieve for what you have lost. However, I hope that in time you might take this good news to heart. I have brought copies of the studies for your perusal."

He handed them to Gambit. "T'anks, Hank." He took the papers in hand without looking at them. The look in Gambit's eyes expressed sincere gratitude laced with a sorrow of unexplored depths. 

Rogue looked at Hank too. "I'm so glad you're our doctor, Hank. I mean it."

"And I am honored that I am able to assist my friends through the most difficult times."

Beast then turned towards the door. "One final item. The…the others have expressed a great deal of concern for you. Is there anything that we, as your friends, can do? Do you wish to receive any visitors?"

Gambit had faced similar queries during his stint in the gym earlier that day. He turned and looked at Rogue. "Not right now," Rogue rasped quietly. "Maybe later." 

*************

Nightcrawler had entered the bridge in search of solitude. He began to pray. Kurt lately had been focussing his prayers on a smaller number of items. He used to pray to God with a laundry list of requests, and then provide another list of items for which he was grateful. Lately he had pared down his prayers to focus on fewer matters.

He prayed for Rogue and Gambit, as he had done since hearing of their miscarriage yesterday. He then requested continued guidance in terms of being able to assist others. Northstar was not the only crew member who sought out Kurt for what had become, essentially, therapy sessions. Nightcrawler prayed that he would retain his listening skills and never misguide someone.

The door to the bridge opened. "Oh! I am sorry for disturbing you," Hank said. He started as if to leave.

"You have not disturbed me at all, Beast," Nightcrawler said. "I was just finishing up some prayers."

Hank nodded. Kurt looked at him and saw the weary sadness on his face. He knew that the doctor was a confirmed agnostic. Beast felt that humanity could not prove or disprove the existence of a divine being, and he therefore choose not to worship one. Although Kurt firmly disagreed with him, he did not dislike or resent Hank in the least over this matter. He held a mild hope that someday Hank could be persuaded to change his mind, but even if that did not occur—and the monk doubted it ever would---that fact did not cause him to dislike or look down upon Hank. 

"You are welcome to enjoy the solitude of the bridge as well, of course," Kurt added. 

"Thank you." Hank seated himself in one of the chairs. As with so many chairs, it was just small enough to cause him discomfort but large enough to accommodate him. 

The two men sat in comfortable silence. Hank had sought refuge on the bridge and was glad to have it. He was tired of his quarters and he desired to spend time outside of the lab each day as well. Also, he and Scott decided to take today "off" in terms of not working on engine repair. Their preliminary efforts had been so frustrating.

The only sound on the bridge was the persistence of the life support mechanism. Hank enjoyed the silence as he reclined in his chair. He speculated that, despite their religious differences, he and Kurt had so many things in common. Both knew many of their teammates intimately, Hank from being their doctor and Kurt from being their confidant. Both indubitably saw their fellow X-men express some blistering emotions; they saw them at some of their lowest moments. And yet both were eternally steadfast and gentle. Both were also extremely trustworthy and would never betray a confidence.

Nightcrawler knew secrets that he would never divulge. He knew of, for example, Scott's fears of inadequacy in leadership and how much Scott craved Professor X's approval. He also knew of Scott's lingering guilt over his "evening" with Queen Marina. Nightcrawler knew of Jean-Paul's lust for Gambit and his painful guilt towards Bobby over those feelings. Wolverine had even sought out Nightcrawler a few times and confided a secret or two. Their confidences were safe with the elvin monk. He would never disclose any of them.

****************

Various X-men approached Rogue and Gambit over the next few days, many not without a measure of timidity. Gambit was an impenetrable shield, protecting his wife. "We don't wanna talk 'bout it," he'd say politely. The others would back off, usually saying something along the lines of, 'If you change your mind, we're here for you.' Gambit would watch them go, wondering whether the others truly wanted to hear of the pain they were suffering. He knew that none had any clue of the depth of their sorrow, given that none had experienced a miscarriage.

A few X-men raised their eyebrows upon noticing that Rogue had resumed wearing gloves. They knew better than to inquire about it though.

Gambit and Rogue ended up not talking much with any of the others. They willfully isolated themselves.

"I wish we could go away somewhere," Rogue said. "I don't wanna see anyone else but I don't wanna sit in my room anymore." The sensation of being trapped choked at her. "It's too damn cold outside though."

Gambit nodded, his head stuffy with boredom. He also craved an escape from their trap but knew to wish for one would be futile. "Chere, you gotta eat somet'in," he said. "You skipped dinner and you hardly ate at your lunch."

"I ain't hungry." Her hair hung limply and Gambit wondered whether she had washed it that morning. The shine had gone from her green eyes.

They went to bed fully clothed, huddling together in each other's arms.

****************

The day Storm had dreaded now arrived. Psylocke's voice came over the intercom one afternoon and flatly announced, "I've detected an FOH ship. We've changed course to intercept and should be there within 48 to 60 hours. Prepare for battle."

The cloaked Vengeance moved at a faster warp speed than the FOH ship. Storm, barred from the bridge, helplessly looked out a window and watched the stars spin by. Confined by the thick walls of the starship, she wished she had some degree of control over its – and her own -- course. 

Dani soon found that Marrow took on a new dimension in bed, a more frantic yet more excited one. Afterwards, she gathered blankets and lay next to her lover.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Dani asked.

"Do what?" Marrow asked, yawning. She was very content now.

"Attack the FOH ship."

Marrow's heart melted – Dani must be concerned for her! She didn't want Marrow harmed in battle. "Don't worry about me, Dani. Psylocke paralyzes all of them before we get on board. So it's completely safe. There's like no fighting, so I'll be okay."

Dani rolled her eyes, glad for the darkness. "But are you sure you wanna torture and kill all those people?" she asked.

"They're not people, they're FOH scum. They got it coming to them, after all they did to mutants. Especially mutant women." 

Psylocke had scanned several crew members' minds from a distance and had shared her findings with Marrow. All the soldiers on board that ship had committed rapes against mutant women, and most had enacted other violence and maiming against mutant males and females too. Psylocke had also shared another interesting fact with Marrow---there was actually one mutant male on board the ship. 

"You…um, don't think you might feel kinda bad after killing a bunch of people?" Dani gingerly asked. "I mean, even if they're FOH scum."

"Feel bad? Hell, Dani I feel more happy and alive than ever after that." Marrow replied, yawning again. "You wanna sleep here tonight?"

"Sure." Dani sometimes spent the entire night in Marrow's room. She was tired, and the bed was warm with fluffy blankets. Dani's room was nearby but she simply didn't feel like getting up, throwing on some clothes, and crossing the hall. She would, though, need to be careful not to accidentally roll near Marrow, thus risking pricking herself against one of Marrow's bones.

A dinner had been planned for the next day. Neither Psylocke nor Marrow attended, which was not at all unusual. Storm broached the subject of the FOH ship.

"What is the name of the starship?" she asked.

Thyme looked at Roula. "I think Psylocke said it was the Conqueror," Thyme replied.

"They're going to be 'The Conquered' soon," Roula smiled.

Storm looked at Roula, the quiet woman who had prepared delicious Middle Eastern dinners. She remembered what she had once said to Moonstar, 'We are going to see all different sides of our crewmates once we attack an FOH ship.' 

"So, what specifically will you do when you get on board the ship?" Storm asked. She kept any hint of judgement out of her voice.

Thyme went on to describe it. With the soldiers either knocked out from stun gas or psychically paralyzed at the work of Psylocke, the four women would go throughout the ship and pounce on whichever FOH soldiers they encountered. They would remove their weapons, bind their hands and legs, and wait for them to regain consciousness. 

"Once they're awake, the fun really begins," Roula interjected.

Thyme then went on to casually describe the various methods of torturing the soldiers and allowing them to die slow deaths. "I never got the blood out of the clothes I wore last time," Thyme added.

Moonstar looked down at the red tomato sauce on her spaghetti and felt her stomach turn.

"What will you do with the ship itself?" Storm asked. "Once you've killed the crew?"

"The last one, we took its dilithium and a lot of its supplies and things like that," Thyme said. "Then, after all the soldiers were finally dead, we blew it up!"

"That seems wasteful," Moonstar said.

"I thought so too," Roula agreed. "But the others—especially Marrow and Psylocke----were really looking in the mood to destroy the ship."  


"They were pumped for it," Thyme agreed. "I guess I was too."

There was silence for a bit, before Dani spoke, "Some people believe in karma. That like whatever you do comes back to you."

"Exactly!" Thyme said. "We're providing karma for those soldiers, giving it back to them."

Dani, seeing that her point had been entirely missed, resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Later that day, Moonstar happened to enter the gym as Marrow was in the midst of a workout. Upon seeing her, Marrow got up from her weight machine and planted a quick kiss on Dani's mouth. Dani didn't resist, though she couldn't say she welcomed such kisses either.

"So, what's your favorite part of attacking an FOH ship?" Dani asked, as she struggled to press the same weights that Marrow had easily been lifting. She looked at Marrow, clad today in a half shirt and shorts. Her body was compact, lean, and muscular in contrast to Moonstar's more rounded and curvaceous softness.

"The rapes," Marrow answered casually, nearly causing Dani to drop her weights. "I like gettin' back at them like that. Last time, I had about ten of 'em chained up inside a room. I tore off one of my bones and fucked one of them with it while the others watched. I had all of their mouths covered with duct tape and I screamed and yelled at 'em the whole time, lettin' 'em know I was getting back at 'em for what they did to mutant women. They were all scared shitless. I went back again and again to repeat it to all of them. They-----"

"Okay, stop!" Dani said. "God, I can't believe I have sex with someone who does stuff like this! You had better not bring any of this shit into our bedroom."

"Dani. I love you!" Marrow declared. "I'd never do anything like that to you."

"Last night, you were a little more rough than usual." Dani said evenly. She also didn't put much stock in Marrow's declaration of love. 'Yeah, she loves me the way a child loves its new toy,' she mused.

"Okay, then I won't be like that again. Shit, Dani, I'd never treat you the way I treat the soldiers. It's totally different. I do that out of revenge. But you…..how I treat you is totally separate."

"I dunno, Marrow. I don't know if I can have sex with someone who does this kind of thing."

Marrow looked at Dani and blinked. Was it a threat? Marrow didn't usually measure her words too carefully; she generally voiced whatever came to mind. Her first impulse for a reply to Dani was something along the lines of, 'You have to. That's why you're on board the damn ship.' But Marrow's instincts told her that such a statement wouldn't go over too well. So she said something else instead.

"Wanna come with? You might like it. They raped you too."

Dani was silent for a bit. "I think what you do to them would make me sick."

"It's been the best kind of healing for me."

"Well, I prefer to get my healing by doing things like playing my flute with Storm or meditating. Dismembering another human being just doesn't do it for me."

"If you change your mind, let me know."

They fell into silence. For several minutes, Moonstar attempted to begin her workout, but her body wouldn't obey. She wordlessly strode out of the gym. Marrow watched her leave and considered following her, but didn't.

***************

It was nighttime. Charlotte and Christopher had long since been put down to bed. Jean tossed and turned in her bed, having woken up shortly after a very light, dreamless slumber.

Gambit. Gambit was inside her mind again. During the nighttime, mental defenses go down and the mind is more vulnerable. Remy LeBeau did not wish to be inside Jean Grey's mind, nor she inside his, but the mental link-up they had created to revive Rogue from her coma sometimes prevailed against their wishes.

While awake, Jean performed one of her routine mental scans of the area, reaching as far into space as she could probe. Nothing. There were no foreign minds out there. As often as she could, Jean performed a mental investigation for the group's security. 

She lay awake some more, attempting to shift into a more comfortable position. No such luck. She couldn't shake the desires her body felt and she could not fall back asleep. Jean remained awake for ten, then fifteen, then thirty minutes – though she was unaware of the exact quantity of time. She only knew that the time seemed interminable.

Jean needed only to pass Remy in the hallway, and she would receive a mental reminder of their link-up. As simply as one could overhear a whisper against one's will, Jean would pick up on Remy's feelings. As much as she did not want to, she knew of his anguish at losing the baby, his grief for Rogue, and even of his twinge of jealousy towards Jean herself and Scott. And---as much as Jean wished she didn't know of it--- his ambivalence towards the now-dormant prospect of becoming a father. His guilt pervaded the backdrop of his mental landscape.

Tonight, however, it was sexual desire that woke her from her sleep. The simple, hot, and persistent craving for sex kept her awake.

She didn't know if it was her own desire or Gambit's desire that kept her from sleep. Their emotions occasionally seeped into each other's. Again, neither wished that it would happen but it was beyond their control, especially when both of them were mentally and physically weary as they now were. And Jean also knew that Gambit had been without sex since prior to the miscarriage. His unfulfilled craving for sex was incessant; she could feel his constant physical need.

Along with those sensations, she was pierced anew by Gambit's guilt. That feeling disturbed her, weighed heavily on her heart. If she allowed herself to wallow in it, the sensation caused a hint of physical pain, requiring Jean to stop and take a few breaths.

The sexual desire continually throbbing against her, Jean briefly considered waking up Scott and asking him to indulge her. But her husband was tired after another long, monotonous day with the engines, and an evening spent playing with the two kids. Besides, Scott and Jean had already made love after lunch. She didn't think he'd be amenable to another bout today; he usually didn't care to make love more than once per day.

She did have the option of taking care of herself, but the idea of doing so while her husband lay sleeping next to her had always been somewhat distasteful to Jean, as irrational as she knew it was. She wouldn't do it.

She remained awake for several more minutes. Finally, she decided that she didn't want to lay inside that bed any longer; the warmth of it stifled her. She reached for her royal blue robe and tied it around her waist. She slid her feet into her fluffy slippers.

Jean found herself walking in the direction of the gym. It was as good a place as any, and perhaps she could walk around the track a few times to at least work off some of this energy she had. 

The moment before the gym doors moved aside, she sensed the presence of another mind within the gym. For an instant, she thought it might be Gambit. His energy and thoughts had been keeping her awake; maybe he'd come her to let off some steam as well. But it wasn't Gambit. It was Wolverine.

Wolverine was laying on a weight bench, lifting a barbell over his head. Jean knew that he must've been able to sense her approach---either his pronounced hearing or sense of smell would have seen to that. He acknowledged her with a nod though the lights in the gym were dimmed, their full glare muted.

"I—I couldn't sleep," Jean began, suddenly feeling very foolish. She wondered why she felt compelled to explain her presence. "I thought I'd come here and go for a walk. I wish we were back on An'zhina," she added. She then decided to close her mouth. Who **didn't** wish they were back on An'zhina?

Wolverine muttered something along the lines of 'I hear ya.' Jean then walked in the direction of the pool and sat near it. She would feel silly just walking around the track in her nightgown and robe now. So she sat down and took a few deep breaths. 

She wondered if the unfulfilled longing – sexual and otherwise – that she had been sensing might have been Wolverine's, instead of Gambit's. She didn't have the same mental connection with him as she possessed with the Cajun, but she was fairly well attuned to the sentiments of those she cared about it. As deeply as Jean missed Storm, she also sympathized with Wolverine for his temporary loss of the one he loved. The depths his loss were agonizing. As heartbreaking as his separation from Storm had to be, Wolverine also suffered – Jean knew – from sexual deprivation.

`What a miserable time for the team,' Jean ruminated as she sat gazing into the water. 'Rogue and Gambit losing the baby, Storm and Dani separated from us, Wolverine's missing her --- all while we're stuck on this freezing cold planet and while we corrupted that other planet, Nari Silara. And God-only-knows what's happening on earth in the meantime.'

A sentence popped into her head. 'Try not to despair.' The Professor said that to her once or twice during the X-men's early days on earth. Things had seemed so hopeless then; the odds had been so great. "And yet look at all we accomplished."

"What'd you say?" Wolverine asked.

Startled, Jean realized that in her now over-tired state, she had spoken the last sentence of her thoughts audibly. "Oh," she smiled. "Sorry. I didn't mean to speak." Jean's cheeks were flushed; the sexual cravings were still with her and she knew that Wolverine would have to be able to sense them. Given his deprived state, she knew she had to leave the gym soon.

"What were you thinking 'bout, darlin'?" he asked.

Jean shrugged, though she knew a normal person wouldn't be able to see it across the room. "I was just thinking about the team's early years. The things we accomplished and things we didn't." She paused, and then asked, "How do you feel about it?"

"'Bout the things the X-men did on earth?" he queried.

She nodded. 

  
"We did a lot of good. We saved that miserable planet more than a few times," he said. His tone did not convey the optimistic spirit of his words though.

"Think of all the battles we fought, all the enemies we defeated. If the world had fallen into the hands of Apocalypse or Sinister, think about….." her voice trailed off. She then shook her head and asked, "Well, would it really have been any worse than the situation the planet's in now?"

Wolverine didn't reply. He hoisted the barbell over his head once more and slowly lowered it down. He had a terrible premonition that Storm was in danger, and he could no more assist her than Hank had been able to assist Rogue.

***************

Psylocke sat in a room with Marrow, Roula, and Thyme. The boredom she had been feeling was gone now, replaced by a measure of excitement and anticipation.

"A small ship with a crew of only 85," she was saying to the group. "One shuttle. They got one mutant man on board there with them. They use his powers," she said, the only explanation she offered for the presence of the mutant male. "We'll be there in 15 hours."  
  
"I can't wait!" Thyme enthused. She and Roula were present at this meeting only for the purposes of them gaining information and functioning more effectively during the attack. Decisions for the ship and its crew were still made solely by Psylocke and Marrow.

"Is there anything else we should know about the Conqueror or its crew?" Roula asked.

Psylocke shook her head. She had just spent a few hours in the mind of the captain. When it came time, overpowering him would be a synch. "Just that they got a lot of dilithium. And even though their ship is smaller, it's too big to fit inside our shuttle bay."

"That's sucks," Marrow muttered. "A spare ship would be nice to have." Psylocke noticed Marrow's level of enthusiasm decidedly lower than it had been prior to their other attacks.

"Yeah, but we got shuttles," Thyme offered. 

"I spoke with Storm earlier today," Psylocke said, changing the subject. "I reminded her not to interfere."

"Do you think she might anyway?" Marrow asked, feeling a jolt of coldness run down her spine. The Weather Witch was a most powerful mutant, one you did not want standing in your way.

"She and Dani swore not to. And I told them that if they do anything like that, I'll hunt down Freedom and blow it up."

"You think it might not hurt to knock Storm out before the mission anyway?" Marrow asked. "Give her a good psychic blast? It won't harm her but it would make sure she doesn't try to interfere."

"That's not a bad idea," Psylocke speculated, with a knowing smile.

******************

****

TO BE CONTINUED

Please send your feedback to stormkpr@usa.net But if you're reading this off fanfiction.net and are inclined to leave me a review, that would be wonderful.

And, as always, I send a big thank you to beta testers Leigh and Becky.


	21. Chapter 21

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

******************

Dani Moonstar paced around the area outside of the bridge. She walked back and forth between there and the hallway outside the main transporter room. She then walked over to sick bay and peered through the glass window at her friend Storm, who was stretched out on a bed inside the infirmary.

Storm had been rendered unconscious via a psychic blast from Psylocke. "It's okay," Psylocke had called to Moonstar as she quickly walked down the hallway. Dani had been barely able to keep up with her as she and the others prepared to transport over to the Conqueror. "She'll be fine."

"But, but….she's unconscious!" Dani protested.

"I do that stuff all the time! She's fine," Psylocke called again as she, Marrow, Roula, and Thyme stepped onto the transporter pad. Watching from outside of the transporter room, Dani observed the bloodlust in their eyes and, before she could get another sentence out, they transported away. 

Dani stood in place, stunned. She then walked back to Storm and took stock of the situation.

She had wanted to bring Storm to the sick bay, so she could at least enlist the help of its machines to examine her condition. Without access to any transporter rooms, Dani would have to carry the Wind Rider. She had struggled to pick up the tall, muscular woman and nearly collapsed from the weight before she realized that the supply room had some cots with wheels. The infirmary contained a few machines that anyone could use, but these machines gave only a cursory examination. Without any medical personnel on board the Vengeance, they had to rely on these should someone fall ill. Dani wheeled Storm to sick bay where the user-friendly machines seemed to indicate Storm would be well. At least that was what Dani had guessed. She really had no idea about medical matters.

Leaving Storm inside sick bay, Dani contemplated what to do next. Marrow, Psylocke, Thyme, and Roula had beamed over to the Conqueror. Psylocke had disabled the FOH crew. (She had used a tried-and-true tactic: take control of the captain's mind, order the crew into one room, accept the stun gas that the Pirates beamed over, seal the crew inside the room and use the gas to knock them out.) 

Marrow didn't say when they would return. (Or, more accurately, Dani had asked and Marrow had replied, "I don't know." Thyme then added, "You really lose track of time during these things.")

Dani paced around some more. Playing a computer game or watching a video at this time seemed wrong, but she didn't know what else to do. She periodically walked over to the infirmary and looked at Storm. No change in her condition. Would her mentor and friend truly be alright? She had only the word of the battle-hungry Psylocke upon which to rely.

Dani finally plopped down in front of the computer screen. After a few half-hearted attempts to play a game, she stopped and rested her forehead on an arm. `I'm stuck in space with a ship of maniacs. Storm's unconscious and I have to sleep with this woman who's currently on a killing and torturing spree. I have no idea where the X-men are, and as for Jubilee….'

Jubilee. Thoughts of her erstwhile friend no longer pained Dani as much as they once had. She still felt a twinge of embarrassment and shame over misreading Jubilee's feelings towards her, and it still hurt her that their friendship was over. It probably always would hurt, at least a little. This separation was beneficial, though. She had needed to get away from Jubilee, away from the feelings. The whole experience was less poignant for Dani now.

`Besides, now I have a homicidal maniac to comfort me,' she thought wryly. She wondered again how she'd ever be able to willingly sleep with someone who could gleefully torture and kill other human beings.

The rest of the day ambled by. Marrow had told Moonstar not to contact them. (The crew had communicators with them but, as Marrow had said, "We'll be too busy to answer." Thyme had breezily added, "We'll be fine---you won't need to call us.") Denied access to the bridge, Dani could not even scan the other vessel. She could only look out a window and see the ship hovering nearby, and assume that everything was going okay.

`Well, as "okay" as things can be when rampant killing and torturing is taking place.'

After more time elapsed, and no apparent change in Storm's condition occurred, Dani whipped out her journal. She was incensed at what the FOH soldiers had done to her. She had fantasized more than once about beating and killing them. And despite the words of those such as Nightcrawler who preached that the members of FOH must be forgiven, Dani had no intention of ever forgiving her attackers. ('Not that they'd ever ask,' she added to herself.) But she still could not fathom ever re-enacting the violence on them. She couldn't brutalize another human being the way Marrow and the others did, apparently without regret.

Although Moonstar loved food, her stomach was too jumpy for much of a dinner. She replicated a light salad dish and could barely finish it. She checked in on Storm once more before heading for her quarters. She remained in bed a long, long time before sleep overtook her.

*****************

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The question was hesitantly posed to Rogue one day. Jean Grey stood several feel away from her friend, surrounded by silence after her question. Tired of cooping herself up inside her room, Rogue was now regularly venturing out to the gym. She knew that would require human interaction, but she felt as though no other choice existed. The first time she had worked out since the miscarriage, she gave those who came into contact with her a look that unmistakably read 'Stay away.'

"No. Thanks Jean, but naw," Rogue finally answered. 

"Sometimes talking about something really does help," Jean counseled, sounding a bit too much like a mother. She was grateful for the vastness of the gym; their conversation was not being overheard by the others. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Gambit and Wolverine lifting weights nearby. Sam, Jubilee, Aurora, and Hector were milling about the pool.

Rogue surprised Jean by responding. "Seems all I do all day is talk 'bout it with Remy."

"It might help to talk about it with someone else."

"Repeatin' the same shit over an' over again ain't helpin' though." Rogue turned away, her back now facing her friend.

Jean tentatively stepped closer to Rogue and rested a hand on her shoulder. "You need time. Time helps all hurt and pain to pass. I mean, I've never been through what you have, But I know--"

"That's just it, Jean --- you **ain't** been through it!" Rogue's voice sliced the air. "You got those two beautiful kids and you don't got any idea what I'm goin' through! Why don't you keep your trap shut when you're givin' out advice!"

Several heads turned; several workouts were interrupted. Once people saw the cause of the commotion, they discreetly returned to their exercises.   
  
Except for Gambit. Upon hearing his wife's distress, he rushed up to console her. "Come on now, chere. It ain't her fault," he gently spoke. He reached an arm around Rogue. Her face was flushed and a few tears threatened to escape, but they held back.

Jean watched the couple. Her link-up with Gambit remained and she knew that he had shared sentiments similar to those of his wife. 'They're only human,' she said to herself, attempting to squelch her anger towards the couple. `I might have felt the same way if our positions were reversed.' 

Rogue and Gambit made their way towards the exit. Rogue was winning the battle of fighting back another crying spell, but she didn't want half of her teammates to see her in that struggle. Gambit gently ushered her out of the gym. 

In the privacy of the hallway, he put his arms around her and held her close. The hardness of his muscle-packed torso provided a comfort to Rogue. She slumped against him, letting his strength support her.

*****************

Moonstar woke early the following morning. Still wearing her comfortable flannel pajamas, she staggered in the direction of sick bay. She blinked when, looking through the clear window, she found that Storm was gone!

"Storm!" she called, reaching for the nearest intercom.

No answer. "Storm, come in please! Where are you?"

"I—I'm here," a weak voice on the other end responded.

"Storm?" Dani asked. Whoever spoke the words 'I'm here' had sounded drained and feeble. "Is that you?"

Silence for several seconds. "It's me," she finally managed.

"Where are you??" 

"My room."

Dani bolted back in the direction of the personnel quarters. After running at breakneck speed, she stepped through the doorway to Storm's room, the doors obligingly sliding aside.

"Wow…..you look terrible."

But at least Storm was conscious. She lay on the bed, her eyes closed. As Dani gradually learned, the other members of the Pirates had returned. After Psylocke did **something** to revive Storm, the Wind Rider had been escorted to her quarters by Thyme and Roula.

"Feel terrible too," Storm replied, opening her eyes. She had a smile on her face, Dani noted. A very encouraging sign. Whatever Psylocke had done, Storm appeared to still be herself.

Dani made a trip to the nearest replicator and coaxed Storm into eating several bites of a breakfast. Given that talking and – particularly -- **thinking** seemed to tire Storm, Dani was quiet during the meal. Though her thoughts were rampant, scurrying around with ideas of the Pirates' actions, Dani remained silent. 

After eating, Storm again closed her eyes and rested her head back against the pillow. Dani watched her, soon realizing her friend was asleep. She carefully stepped back into the hallway.

"Psylocke, this is Moonstar. Can you come in please?" she asked, speaking into her communicator. She had to struggle to keep her voice pleasant.

No reply. An impatient Dani then strode into Marrow's quarters. Although Marrow had been asleep, she was willing to wake up and talk to the object of her affections. 

"What's going on with that FOH ship?" Dani demanded as Marrow rubbed her eyes. "And what's up with whatever Psylocke did to Storm?"

Marrow yawned and explained that she and the other Pirates were merely "taking a break" from the Conqueror. They sometimes liked to stretch out "the retribution" over the span of several days and they now needed a rest, to recoup their energies for a new round of torturing. "It's exciting, but it really takes it outta you," Marrow explained. 

Dani didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that statement. "Fine, but what about Storm? She looks like she's been hit by a train."

"I dunno. Can't you ask Psylocke about it, honey?"

Dani winced at the term of endearment so casually used by Marrow. "She didn't respond to my page."

Marrow groped around for her communicator. Not able to find hers, she held out her hand to use Dani's. "Psylocke, come in damn it. If you don't answer, we're gonna come bang on your door."

Psylocke answered, and yelled at Marrow for waking her. Moonstar listened to the two women converse. Psylocke sounded sleepy yet very charged up. "Storm's going to be just fine," Psylocke was saying. "It was a simple psychic blast I used to knock her out."

Dani grabbed Marrow's arm. "Ask her how she can be sure Storm's alright! Tell her to check in on Storm. And ask her why the hell she knocked her out in the first place!"

"I can hear you just fine, Dani," Psylocke said dryly. "I'll check on Storm after I get some more damn sleep. If I can. I know how to use my own powers, thank you."

That was the end of the conversation from Psylocke's point of view. Marrow looked at Dani. "I'm sure what Psylocke said is right. Don't worry about Storm. She'll be fine. Just stop worrying."

Dani took a breath. "I guess I have no choice," she muttered.

And then she saw that Marrow got that look in her eyes. Gesturing to the bed, she raised her eye brows and began, "How about…."

"No thanks," Dani said flatly, as she turned for the exit. It was the first time she had ever refused one of Marrow's advances.

*****************

The day after Rogue's outburst in the gym, Gambit found Jean in the rec room. 

"Can we talk for a bit?" Gambit asked quietly. He indicated with his eyes that he wished to speak to her outside of the rec room, as they were not alone.

"Of course." Jean rose and followed Gambit to an empty conference room. 

"Jus' wanna apologize for my wife's outburs'," he said, as soon as they were seated. "She didn't mean dose t'ings she said."

Jean shook her head. "Gambit, please, no apology is necessary. I understand that she didn't mean what she said."

Their remaining psychic link exposed the subtle untruth of Jean's words. She knew full well that there **had** been grains of truth in Rogue's sentiments. Jean then added, "I wouldn't fault her for anything she said while in this state." Those words were completely truthful. "I am sure that I would feel the same way if our positions were reversed."

Jean then reached across the table to touch one of Gambit's hands. "How are **you** holding up?" she asked softly. "This must be just as hard on you."

"Gambit gonna be alright," he replied. His eyes, which didn't meet hers, blatantly told another tale. Gambit got up to leave and Jean watched him exit, wondering how long he could continue like this.

****************

The next few days passed as uncomfortably for Dani as those first few had. She knew Storm had been right when she had insisted that encountering an FOH ship would be bad, but only now did Dani realize the veracity of her words. The absence of a cogent Storm did not help things either. This was the most **alone** Dani had felt in a long time.

Slowly Storm recovered her strength. Dani tended to her several times a day, feeding her and sometimes just talking to her, though Storm frequently felt too tired to respond much. Moonstar occasionally pulled out her flute and played it for her friend. 

Whenever Dani tried to confront Psylocke to find out exactly what she did to Storm, Psylocke brushed her aside as if she couldn't be bothered. Moonstar rarely saw Psylocke, though. When she wasn't on board the Conqueror, she was generally asleep on board the Vengeance.

The Pirates eventually finished their mission. Over a period of about five days, they dismembered and killed the crew of the Conqueror. When finished, they scavenged various supplies from the ship (including dilithium), and blew it up with a few photon torpedoes from the Vengeance.

The Pirates had spared one person who had been on board the Conqueror. As Psylocke had told the others beforehand, FOH had a mutant male with them on board the ship. His name was Alexander. The Pirates decided to allow him to live.

Because the Conqueror possessed only one shuttlecraft and the Pirates wanted it, they were not about to waste the shuttle on Alexander by allowing him to use it to return to earth or venture towards An'zhina. That left Alexander on board the Vengeance with the Pirates.

"So what's the deal with him?" Dani asked Marrow. Shortly after the Conqueror had been destroyed, Marrow was jogging around the track inside the gym. She needed to work off some excess energy. Dani was sitting on the floor of the gym, observing her. She had nothing better to do; Storm was napping and Psylocke had gone off to watch some movies and "chill."

"We decided to keep him," Marrow stated. "It was Psylocke's idea."

"But why?" Moonstar persisted.

"I told you," Marrow responded. She barely huffed as she spoke, her fitness level high. "We didn't want to waste the shuttle or the dilithium on him. And we didn't want to kill him – Psylocke read his mind and he didn't rape any mutant women. Or any women at all."

Dani listened to Marrow's words. Well, at least that was a good sign. She imagined that when one was in a killing frenzy, one might not stop to decide who was innocent and who guilty. Of course, the Pirates had known beforehand that FOH had a male mutant on board the ship. But it was still encouraging that they had decided to spare his life. "What was he doing on that ship?" she asked.

"His powers. They wanted him there for his powers. Also, he's a doctor."

Marrow wasn't, Dani observed, particularly talkative today. Still, Dani felt she had a better chance of prying out information from Marrow than anyone else. "Well, what are his powers?" Dani asked, not without a measure of impatience.

"He can make food," Marrow stated.

"So….he's a chef?" Dani asked. Marrow had jogged towards the far end of the track and Dani had to strain to hear her.

"No, silly," Marrow called. "It's his mutation – he can like take certain objects. He said stuff like stones or dirt—shit like that. He can take it and turn it into food."

"How interesting. I've never seen anyone with a mutation like that!"

"Me neither. His food's kinda bland though. He can only make stuff like rice and….um, grains." From the way Marrow said the word, Dani could tell she didn't have a good grasp of what exactly 'grains' were. "And….what the crap else did he say?….'root vegetables', whatever those are. And herbs and spices too."

"Okay, cool. But I still don't get it. FOH has food replicators, don't they? So what do they need him for?" Dani asked, truly confused. 

"The Fuckers on Heroin are cheap as hell. They are with their pee-ons, anyway. They're looking for ways to save supplies, like using this Alexander guy's powers. The worker bees don't get the kind of star treatment their officers get. A lot of the pee-ons on that ship were mostly living on Alexander's rice and herbs, at least while they were on their mission. Anyway, that's what Psylocke told me from reading the captain's mind."

"Did FOH torture this guy?"

"Nope. Seems like they pretty much left him alone, except when they needed food. Or needed a doctor."

"Interesting," Dani repeated. "So what do we do with him?"

"Psylocke said he's harmless. So we figure we'll let him roam around the ship as he wants. We got him barred from the bridge and engineering like you and Storm. We gave him a code to use on the replicators so we can tell if he's using too much." Marrow paused and added, "If he ever tries anything, we'll deal with it. Betsy's gonna monitor his mind. We figure next time we're near An'zhina, we can drop him off there. Or earth, if he wants it."

Marrow had jogged right up to where Dani sat. She took a deep breath. Sweat trickled down her face. Dani looked at her and observed that only a few bones protruded from her body today. She must have ripped off and used most of them in battle on board the Conqueror. "I'm ready for a shower now. Wanna come with?"

There was that look again; Dani knew exactly what Marrow wanted after (or during) the shower. This time, it soured Dani's stomach. 

"No thanks," Dani replied.

"Oh, c'mon," Marrow insisted. She cajoled Dani, and Dani continued to resist. Finally, an exasperated and angry Marrow stomped off to the locker room.

Dani sighed with relief, though she then felt the relief dissipate. This was now the second time she had turned Marrow down, and she wondered how long she could continue to block her advances. With dread growing in her gut, Dani wondered whether she knew what Marrow was truly capable of.

***************

After her conversation with Marrow in the gym, Dani headed over to check on Storm. She had to blink a few times when she saw Storm ambling down the corridor.

"Storm!" she exclaimed.

Storm returned her smile, though weakly. Dani rushed to her side and offered a hand. Storm refused it. "How're you doin'?" Dani asked. 

She observed Storm. She moved slowly and with apparent difficulty. Her reflexes seemed off-kilter still. "Well, I have been better."

"I'm surprised to see you up."

"I've grown weary of sitting in that bed all day."

Dani nodded, "Yeah, but you still look kinda unsteady."

"My head feels better than it has in days. Truly, Dani, I feel much more myself today."

"When you're feeling totally back to normal, we gotta talk to Psylocke. What in the hell was she thinking??"

Storm closed her eyes and shook her head. "I am so disgusted with her right now, I cannot even dwell on this." And she spoke the truth. Nothing could justify Psylocke's completely unprovoked attack.

As Storm and Dani rounded the corner, they spotted Alexander walking towards them.

Well, it had to be Alexander, Dani knew, though she'd never seen the man before and the person before her was not at all what she expected. For some reason, Dani had thought he would be a young man, around her own age. She'd forgotten that Marrow said he was a doctor. As they got closer, though, she observed a man with graying hair and hard-earned lines around his eyes and mouth. Dani also, for some reason, had not expected him to be so rugged in appearance. Alexander was quite a large man --- tall and stocky, though Dani guessed a lot of the bulk was strength and muscle. His shoulders were broad. His hair was also longer than the length at which most men wore theirs; it reached an inch or two beneath his chin. His face was square, but despite his tough appearance, he had a kind look in his eyes. 

He also had an attractive face, Dani observed. She obviously didn't fawn over men, but even she could see that he was handsome. She began to wonder whether Psylocke might have had another motive for wanting Alexander on board the Vengeance.

"You must be Alexander," Dani said. A few days ago, she had told Storm that FOH had a male mutant on board and that the Pirates might be having him stay with them. So she knew Storm would not react with surprise upon seeing Alexander. "I'm Dani Moonstar," she reached to shake his hand.

Slightly taken aback at Dani's friendliness and confidence, Alexander recovered quickly. "Alexander," he said, returning the handshake. "Nice to meet you." His grip on her hand was firm.

"I am called Storm," the Weather Goddess said, as she reached for Alexander's hand. She gave it a weak shake. 

"Nice to meet you as well." Alexander's eyes narrowed. "Are you ill, Storm? I am a doctor."

"It is quite a long story," Storm said wearily.   


"You do look ill. There must be a sick bay on board this ship. May I examine you?"

"I believe the problem is mostly the result of psychic tampering. I do not know if there is much that a doctor can do."

"Yeah, but still," Dani encouraged. "We've never had a doctor on this ship till now. I don't think it could hurt for him to take a look at you."

Storm was unusually compliant. She agreed to Dani's suggestion, though she declined Alexander's offer to help steady her. The three slowly walked to sick bay.

****************

"How long will your link with Gambit last?"

"I don't know, Scott." Jean smiled, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You know how these things work. Or – I should say – you know that no one **knows** exactly how these things work. The link might go away on its own."

"Or you two might stay linked forever," Scott finished for her.

The couple sat on the floor of engineering together. Hank and Scott were taking a break from their engine repair, and Hank had left the room. Jean was keeping her husband company.   


"Yes. It's possible." Jean reached for one of Scott's hands and held it. "Scott, you –"

"I know," he said, interrupting her. He rarely ever did so. "I know that there's no reason to be jealous."

"I've never been attracted to Gambit, and I'm not now. There's never been any….spark between us. The…the link he and I have came about because we needed to save Rogue and it's nothing compared to **our** link. They're worlds apart."

"I know that. I can tell that from our connection."

"Then why are you being so insecure?" Jean stated the question simply and without reproach. "You know that no one else comes close to you, my soulmate."

Scott reached for her lips and kissed them. As he did so, Jean received a flash of thoughts stemming from his mind. `Maybe another visit with Nightcrawler couldn't hurt,' Scott had been thinking.

//I agree// Jean spoke to him through their mindlink. //It's always good to get some perspective from an objective third party.//

//I wonder if Nightcrawler ever gets tired of hearing people's woes.// Scott wondered wryly.

//He can handle it.//

On impulse, Jean reached forward and kissed her husband once more. This time, she held onto his lips longer before relinquishing them. Her hands roamed around his body, unexpectedly and suggestively. She reached to kiss him again, and he responded as her tongue entered his mouth.

Jean picked up on a plethora of thoughts going through Scott's mind. 'This isn't usually the time that we…..Hank could walk in any minute now….who's looking after the kids….' Scott didn't consciously direct those ruminations through their mindlink, but Jean was able to seize them. She pulled back.

"I'm sorry," Scott stammered. "I didn't mean that I wanted you to stop. It's just that…." his voice trailed off.

"It's okay," Jean said. "I know. This probably **isn't** the best time or place." She quickly added, "Wolverine and Jubilee are watching the kids – the girls were on the playset, when I left them."

Suddenly, Scott reached for Jean and kissed her with fervor. He moved so fast that she almost jumped back. One of his hands touched the side of her face as the other began to caress one of her thighs.

"Oh my!" Jean breathed, before Scott reached for her once more. As they kissed this time, Jean involuntarily picked up more snippets from Scott's mind. `To hell with being Mr. Boring and Predictable…..Gambit isn't the only one who can show some spontaneity.'

Jean began to open her mouth to reassure her husband once more, to let him know that he didn't need to compare himself against others, but she couldn't because his tongue was lapping against her lower lip and then nibbling on her mouth. She sent some loving and reassuring thoughts towards Scott via their mindlink, though he wasn't listening too intently. He was too preoccupied with tugging at her shirt and fondling her breasts.

"Oh Scott!" Jean gasped again. This was really unlike him. Scott liked to take things slowly, like a gentleman. A usual lovemaking session for them lasted a long, long time. His kisses, almost frantic now, were trailing their way down her neck.

"Scott, you really don't have to…." Jean began, as he lifted her shirt up and unhooked her bra. His tongue nibbled at her navel as one hand reached upwards to squeeze a plump breast. Jean let her neck hang back as she decided to cease any protesting. She fleetingly considered flipping him onto his back, taking control of this erotic encounter – Scott frequently enjoyed when she did so. But she wanted to see where this would go. She had to admit it was wickedly fun.

Scott sucked on one nipple as a hand reached to unzip Jean's pants. His fingers stroked her rhythmically and insistently. Jean involuntarily let out a few deep moans of appreciation. She wondered if he might turn her over and enter her from behind; they hadn't done that since Jean was pregnant, and she secretly longed for it once more. Scott's hands were bedewed with her wetness now.

His mouth was covering hers once more. Jean allowed herself to lose track of any more thoughts within that ardent kiss. She just mused that she and her husband were still in love after so many years, still desiring of each other's bodies. She groped for his belt buckle, surrendering any more conscious deliberation.

Hank walked in, just as Scott and Jean were nearing a crashing mutual orgasm. Had he stayed to watch, he would have seen the whole picture and all of the details: Scott on top of Jean, both with trousers around their ankles. The rest of their clothing had remained on, though Jean's bra had been pushed to the side to expose her generous breasts. The couple cried out together with the force and the gratification of their climax, though Hank left long before it was finished.

Sad memories of his life with Panda filled Hank's mind as he shuffled back down the corridor. He tried to shake them from his mind. With the rate the repairs were progressing, it would be quite some time before he was ever reunited with his wife and son.

Later, Scott summoned Hank to engineering to continue their work. Scott couldn't quite refrain from blushing when he saw Hank, while Hank kept his face as neutral as possible.

****************

Just as it was cold and barren outdoors, it was chilly and gloomy inside Freedom too. Rogue lost her baby. All of us were hurting for her and we were pretty helpless to comfort her. It brought all of us down, wounding each of us any time we looked at Rogue or Gambit or saw them in the hallways. It was like Rogue and Gambit's grief enshrouded us all. And Rogue never took those gloves off now. I wondered if perhaps, somehow, she no longer had the ability to control her power of absorption. I'd not seen her touch anyone since before the miscarriage.

Somehow –and I know this sounds terrible to say—it seemed all worse now than when Colossus was killed. Colossus's death was horrible too, but somehow the team pretty much seemed to rebound from that loss. At the time, I was too busy dealing with Jean-Paul's recovery from torture to even grieve for Colossus too much. Things had been moving too fast then, but here we were stranded on this planet and the days crawled by. But once I realized that I was taking the loss of Rogue and Gambit's pregnancy worse than I had the loss of Colossus, I was stung with guilt and sadness. 

Other than Rogue and Gambit's loss, we X-men had more depressing facts to live with. The Cetians could return at any time to hunt down more slaves for their mining operation. FOH could swing by at any time as well. Often, when you looked at Jean Grey, you'd see a weariness around her eyes. She had to constantly monitor space. In the event of an attack from FOH or the Cetians, who knew how we would fare? Especially with two of our strongest fighters in misery. 

And I suppose I don't need to say again that Wolverine wasn't doing so well at being separated from Storm, nor Hank from his family. Sam would speak longingly of his relatives back on earth.

Hank and Cyke had no luck with the engines. Three more weeks passed since the miscarriage. Cyclops and Hank called us together one day to give an update, but the update consisted mainly of them telling us that they had made no progress. "We are considering attempting to repair one of the shuttles instead," Hank said. 

"And we also want you to be aware of the risks. We're afraid that we might do more harm than good," Cyclops added. 

I sat around the meeting table, actually glad to be in a meeting and see the rest of the team. Days had been ambling by at the speed of tectonic plates, and a meeting with the rest of the X-men was actually a nice way to break up the day. I glanced at Rogue and Gambit, and then quickly glanced away.

"How likely do you think it is? That you would actually do more harm than good to the engines?" Nightcrawler asked. 

"It is quite possible," Hank replied.

He then launched into a detailed and technical explanation. The bottom line was – they didn't know the answer to Nightcrawler's question. We talked and talked around it in circles, debating what to do next. Finally, the rest of the team decided to defer to the judgement of the two engineering experts. So Cyclops and Hank said they would temporarily cease engine repair work and instead try to fix one of the shuttles. They sure didn't sound that optimistic.

*****************

One morning, Rogue rose from bed. Stripping in preparation for the shower, she removed her gloves. It was the only time, now, that she removed them. Once inside the tub, she turned the water on and reached for the cake of soap. `Another day,' she thought. `Gotta get up and keep goin'.' She had tried, before, lying in bed all day but never found it to do much good. If anything, it made the day longer and the pain more intense. There had been a few days when she simply hadn't been able to muster the will to get out of bed. Gambit would then fawn over her and bring her food, trying to coax her out of bed. The attention he paid to her only increased her guilt. No, she knew she did not want another one of those days.

Stepping out of the shower, Rogue dried her hands and then replaced her gloves. She opened a drawer to search for her hairbrush. She noticed the bottle of birth control pills sitting there. They weren't needed now. Rogue and Gambit hadn't made love since before the miscarriage.

Once she had dried off and dressed, she entered the main part of the room and glanced at her husband. He remained asleep, which was reassuring to see. Rogue knew that Gambit generally tossed and turned all night now. Some nights she thought he never actually fell asleep. It was hard to know for sure, though. The few times she had inquired about it, he'd reassured her that he was fine and she hadn't had the ability to probe.

Rogue took another look at him. Could he have been losing weight? He did look a bit thinner. She herself only picked at her food nowadays, rarely eating with the gusto she used to have. She peered closer at Gambit. It did seem that he had lost some weight.

Eventually, Gambit woke up. The two made their way to the mess hall where they both ate sparingly from their lunch and made minimal conversation with the other X-men. Most of the rest of the X-men seemed to prefer sitting away from them. `Figures,' Rogue thought. `They don't wanna be around us. 'Sides, they got no clue what we're goin' through. None of 'em do.'

She tried to keep it together during the rest of the day. She fought best as she could to keep from unraveling. But at some point, as the hours stretched on, Rogue felt the heaves starting, the wrenching pain of trying to avoid self-pity making it all the more worse. The guilt and shame at her weakness took over, as did the fear that she somehow was responsible for the loss. She began to sob again, even though it seemed that her supply of tears had dried up. 

Gambit held her as she bawled. At first she cried against his shoulders. Then she dropped her head into her hands and felt the tears roll off the gloves. 

"Here you go, chere," Gambit said, handing her a tissue.

Rogue dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. He handed her more tissues. Her trembling subsided and she looked at him. A dull ache throbbed in her head; another strong headache was just gearing up.

"Look at you, Swamp Rat," she said, her voice raw. "You ain't goin' through any of this. Everythin's peachy with you." She coughed uncontrollably and added, once the coughing subsided, "You don't care 'bout us losin' the baby at all, do you?"

And with that comment, Rogue saw an insane look in Gambit's eyes. They flashed wildly, chilling to look at. He picked up the nearest object—the tissue box---and threw it against the wall. "Fuck dat," he said.

Rogue recoiled at the anger in his voice. She instantly sobered up, the urge to continue crying now vanished. She sat, looking at him, fighting her fear at his wrath.

"I miss dat baby more den you ever can imagin'!" he raged. "I been goin' t'rough everyt'in' you have. Sayin' I don't care bout the baby -- a bunch of bullshit!"

Still shocked and a bit fearful at his outburst, Rogue emotions started to cool off. "Remy, I…" she began, but then stopped herself when she looked at her husband.

He had turned away from her. His shoulders seemed to be shaking, and Rogue started to wonder whether he might be crying. She blinked a few times, hard. Her fear evaporated.

"Remy," she breathed, her voice a whisper this time. She crept up behind him and gingerly touched one of his shoulders. "Remy, are you okay?" she whispered. She was fairly sure that he was crying now. She could not ever recall seeing him cry.

"Remy?" she whispered again. This time she put her arms around his waist. She felt him tremble.

Gambit sank down at her touch. Rogue lowered herself to the floor along with him. His face buried against her shoulder, he allowed himself to cry unabashedly. 

"There, there, sugar," Rogue murmured. She stroked his hair. "We're gonna get through this."

Remy remained quiet for several long moments as Rogue continued to utter such words at him. She suspected that he didn't want to talk until he got a hold of his crying. Rogue continued to hold him in her arms and he continued to muffle his tears, usually with success. She quietly urged him to let it all out.

After a long while, Gambit lifted his head up. His eyes were eerily red and bloodshot, a strange site compared to the normal look of his eyes. 

"Chere, I wanted dat baby. I started to love dat baby. My heart got torn out." His voice was deeper and more raspy than usual. 

"I know, Remy. I know. I -I'm sorry. My tongue gets ahead of my brain. How could I ever say that?" she asked. "Shame on me."

"Some days I can't take the guilt."

"Guilt over what, Remy?" she asked gently.

"I keep wonderin'….did I do somet'in' wrong? Is dat why we lose the baby? Is it me gettin' paid back for all the t'ings I did wrong…before? Before I came to the X-men."

"Remy, you know that ain't true. We didn't do nothin' wrong. We…you----" Rogue stumbled around for words, still trying to digest his admission of feeling guilt over his past. There was still so much of his past that he wouldn't talk about, of which she understood that she would never know. "You wouldda made a great dad," she said, at a loss for other words. "You really wouldda."

He struggle to get a hold of emotions and not lapse into tears once more. "Don't know 'bout dat, chere," he finally replied. "It's dose times when I start wonderin' if it was meant to be. Den I feel guilty all over again."

"I seen the way you take care of the other kids here. I know you'd be a great dad. You---you got no reason to feel an ounce of guilt!"

"I still wonder did I do somet'in' wrong? Did I not want the baby enough?"

Rogue continued to hold her husband in her arms, continued to console him. Doing so gradually filled her with strength. Her insides had felt like jelly for so long; they now started to solidify. He opened up to her, as he had not done since before the miscarriage. She listened to him and offered her support.

"What don't kill us is gonna make us stronger," Rogue said, once their talk began to die down. "You want to try again, Remy? I mean," she let out a laugh, "not right now. But someday maybe we can try again."

"Of course, chere. I want to." As he said the words, he had a stronger sense that he meant them, that he truly did want to become a parent. 

Gambit then got to his feet, and offered Rogue a hand to stand beside him. Once on her feet, she led him towards the bed. "C'mon, Remy," she whispered. "We ain't made love since before we lost the baby." She looked at the bed and slowly, deliberately removed her gloves.

Remy listened to her words and noted how calmly she was able to say that phrase 'We lost the baby.' She said the words not without deep sorrow, but with a measure of acceptance. The sadness was still there but it was tempered by resignation.

"You want to, don't you?" she prompted. 

"Do **you** want to?" 

She smiled, "If I didn't, you think I'd even ask, sugar?"

He returned her smile and stepped towards her, cupping her head in his hands. "I love you, Rogue," he said, looking into her eyes. 

They gently rubbed the tips of their noses together, before his lips fell against hers. Their languorous kiss lasted for several moments. They kissed dryly before Remy, softly and even gingerly, inserted his tongue within her mouth. 

She held onto him now, lowering him onto the bed. He felt fear this time; it had been so long and he didn't want to hurt her, physically or emotionally. But she led him, encouraging him onward. Rogue and Remy made love, slowly and tenderly. This bout of lovemaking had very little to do with physical gratification, other than their need for tenderness and closeness. Their orgasms were incidental to the experience. This time it was all about their unbreakable bond, their adoration for each other, the knowledge that they were going to weather this crisis together and survive it. 

They remained entwined together for a long time afterwards. Eventually, Gambit gently rolled off of her, their sweaty bodies making a sound as they slowly cleaved apart.

"God, I'm starvin'," Rogue said, finally emerging from the lagoon.

"You should be, chere. You ain't hardly ever' eatin' much dese days." As he said the words, Remy felt his own stomach rumble with hunger. He contemplated a spicy catfish dish or perhaps his standby okra and sausage stew. He and Rogue would share their favorite buttery cornbread. 

"C'mon. Let's get to that mess hall and replicate the best damn dinner ever!" 

****************

"Psylocke's been coming on to me."

The revelation seemed strange to Storm. Not that she doubted Psylocke would, sooner or later, make moves on Alexander. Storm had surmised that as soon as she got a good look at the doctor. Rather, her surprise was due to Alexander's openness. He rarely spoke about himself or personal events. 

"Is that so?" Storm asked. She **was** curious on this subject and hoped that Alexander might elaborate. Now less than one week after the Pirates had blown up the Conqueror, life on board the Vengeance had seemingly resumed its normal pace. Storm slowly recovered her strength, under the watchful eyes of Alexander and Dani. 

Today Storm sat with Alexander in sick bay. He had completed another tricorder scan of Storm. 

"Subtlety is not her strength," Alexander wryly commented.

"Hmmmm," Storm mused. "It used to be."

Alexander had a look on his face that indicated he'd like Storm to continue her train of thought, but she held back. 'No sense in bringing up the past,' Storm thought. Yes, Psylocke had changed quite a bit over the years. So had everyone else, basically. Such were the times they lived in; such were the cosmic events in which they'd found themselves wrapped up.

"Is she bothering you?" Storm asked. 

"No. Not really. She gets angry when I rebuff her. But she seems like she can deal with it."

Storm raised her eyebrows. Not too many men would reject Psylocke's advances. She felt a pang of brief sadness when reflecting upon the last man Psylocke had slept with. She no longer felt grief or anger over what Wolverine had done; she and Wolverine had not been a couple at that time and he'd been free to do as he pleased. Storm's sorrow had to do with her current separation from Wolverine.

She then wondered at Alexander's comment. So he wasn't interested in Psylocke. That was interesting; he didn't seem gay, Storm speculated. She then chided herself for harboring preconceptions about what a homosexual might look or act like. But she usually could sense if a man was gay (she'd picked up on Bobby right when she met him), and Alexander had come across as clearly heterosexual.

Storm silently admonished herself again. 'Just because a man's not interested in Psylocke doesn't mean he's gay either. Though she does seem to have an effect on most men…..'

"I'm not gay," Alexander clarified, perhaps guessing at the direction of Storm's thoughts. "I'm taking a break from relationships."

Storm nodded. Alexander seemed as though he might be nursing a broken heart. It made sense; so many mutants were. Relationships were difficult to maintain under the conditions most mutants lived in.

"She might not want a full-scale relationship with you. She might only want a companion for her bedroom," Storm commented. 

"I'm taking a break from sex too."

"May I ask why?" Storm quickly added, aware that her question could easily be misconstrued, "I'm just curious. I am not trying to come on to you."

"I don't mind your asking. It—it actually is good to have a conversation with a…a real person. I spent the last few months cooped up on a ship with FOH assholes."

Storm nodded; she understood. Alexander was clearly starved for someone to converse with. 

"I saw too much in the camps," Alexander explained. "I saw too much of how the soldiers treated….the women. At the camp I stayed at, they sometimes made us watch. These last few days….it's been very strange with Psylocke hitting on me. I've always loved the attentions of beautiful women. But now I….I can't explain it, other than to say that I know I need a break." Alexander's tone clearly belied his awkwardness at discussing this topic. Storm surmised that his desire to have an exchange with another person was behind his desire to open up. Her instincts – and her interactions with him over the last few days -- told her that Alexander was generally more tightlipped, especially around new acquaintances.

"I understand completely. My—my team suffered at the hands of FOH. We all went through….something similar. It can take a while for things to go back to normal, whatever 'normal' means." Storm forced a smile, realizing that she didn't want to discuss her experiences as a captive of FOH. Not right now, anyway, "Time heals all wounds," she concluded, inwardly grimacing at the cliché. She was finding herself stumbling over words more than she liked, though she justified it partially to her mind still functioning groggily, thanks to Psylocke's handiwork.

"Does it? Doesn't time require a bit of help from us?" Alexander smiled. "Dani was telling me a bit about the X-men at dinner yesterday. She told me about the adventures of the team. She kept adding disclaimers that everything she said was second-hand; she said hasn't been with your team for very long. But she told me of some of the wonderful things you've done to help the X-men, and how you helped pull the team back together."

"We all help each other. That's what a family does. Within the X-men, I am in a leadership position, but we all work together." 

"I'd love to hear more about the X-men. From your perspective."

Storm then told Alexander of a battle from many, many years ago. She didn't know why she picked this particular incident; it just popped into her mind. She described how the X-men had to face off against the Juggernaut. Only when they all worked together were they able to defeat him. The face-off had taken place so long ago that Storm's recollections of it were patchwork and incomplete. Still, she described the tag-team approach that had brought down the Juggernaut. Colossus shoved into him from the back, throwing him of balance. To further confuse him, Storm clouded dense fog over his head, which allowed Wolverine to spring on him from behind and use his claws to tear off the Juggernaut's helmet's fasteners. Rogue then flew in and pulled off his helmet. Rogue then bolted, unable to control the virulent memories that she absorbed when her bare hands had touched the Juggernaut. Storm flew into the air after her friend, helping her to calm down. Meanwhile, Jean Grey used her telepathy to convince the Juggernaut to cease his battle and wander off, dazed.

When Storm finished the story, she noticed a tear having formed in the corner of one eye.

"You miss them terribly, don't you?" Alexander asked. He usually moved with assuredness but now he looked hesitant, as if he wanted to place a hand on Storm's shoulder. He didn't.

"I miss them," Storm nodded. "I was also thinking of Colossus. He was killed by FOH a few years ago."

"The things those bastards are doing on earth," Alexander began, before stopping himself. Storm didn't need to hear any details on that right now, and Alexander didn't feel like going down that path either. "Do you have….someone? A husband or boyfriend?" His question sounded abrupt. He wanted to turn the conversation away from FOH camps and the situation on earth.

"Yes. Wolverine and I have been together for a few years. I look forward to the day when I can rejoin the X-men and be reunited with him. And with all the others." Storm found it curious that Dani wouldn't have mentioned the relationship with Wolverine when she'd discussed the X-men with Alexander over dinner yesterday.

She then decided to take the conversation away from that track. "Well," she began, having swallowed any tears, "let me see that tricorder." He handed it to her. "It confirms what I could have told you. I'm much better now and am ready to resume working out."

"You certainly are not. Storm, I want you to have a few more days of rest. The tricorder isn't going to even pick up on everything Psylocke's action might have done to your mind."

"I know my own limits, Alexander," she remarked, glad to be finished with the weightier talk. "I can handle a light workout. Care to join me?"

"Well, I see that I can't stop you. So I may as well join you."

"Ah, you learn quickly."

Alexander returned her smile. "I like a good workout myself," he said, and a hint of boasting could be detected in his tone. Alexander was strong; he had played football in college and lifting weights had remained a hobby for years.

Storm flew to the gym, with Alexander following. She resolved that as soon as her strength was back up to full power, she would confront Psylocke over her actions.

****************

I think we could use a break from all the gloom of recent events. So I'm going to dive in and write a section on my favorite topic right now. Penises. 

It's very strange that I haven't written on this subject before. I'm a gay man and yet in all the pages and pages of writing I've been doing, I've hardly mentioned penises at all.

Um, I love penises. Love them. And I've had more of them than I can count inside my mouth, gripped between my hands, or up my ass. I've seen countless penises, gotten to revel in their different lengths and widths, the different tastes. I love the way they jerk excitedly when aroused. I love looking at the testicles, too – seeing whether they're shaped like two distinct pendulums or more of an amorphous sack.

Okay, I think I might know the reason I haven't written too much on the subject. And god I hate to admit this, but I'm just gonna come out and write it. I'm pretty average in size. Average. Like I said, I've seen enough other dicks to know it for a fact. I could never be a porn star – just am not anywhere near big enough.

My fantasy (never fulfilled): to be fucked by one guy as I give head to another. To be filled up with penises, with their cum. It would fit perfectly in a porn film (except, again, I'm not well enough endowed for that.) I know, I'm a slut.

Sometimes I wonder – why do I think bigger is better? I mean really, _is_ it? A few men I had up my ass were just too big and it kinda hurt. So huge isn't necessarily such a great thing. But still. I would be so happy with another inch or two.

So, what else can I write on this subject so near and dear to my heart? Oh, I know! Let me write about my favorite cock – the one belonging to Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul is well-endowed. Nice, long, and thick. Not massive, but definitely well-endowed. Yum! I love it. 

Every now and then, I long for my "slut" days where I got to entertain a new penis every night (or more often than that, if I wanted.) Ah, the variety! The thrill of the new. I know that I prefer being with only Jean-Paul now, though.

I don't know about the sizes of any of my other teammates since I've never really had a look at them. During the time we had to close down most of Freedom and take group showers, I waited for my shower till everyone was finished. During the time Wolverine, Gambit and I were captured by FOH and being brought to Ceti III, our washroom facilities were, shall we say, less than adequate. But I never sneaked a glance, as much as I wanted to. Hank and I once had a discussion regarding his "genitalia" (as he termed it), but I've never seen it. I talk pretty openly with Rogue (well, I used to before this mess with the miscarriage) but haven't dared to address the subject of her husband's dick. Jubilee and I talk openly too and when we got on this topic, all she said was that she didn't have much to compare Sam to, and that "he sure seems pretty big. But I dunno." She showed me with her hands Sam's estimated length. If her handspan was accurate, it would be maybe an inch and a half longer than average.

Jean-Paul and I discussed the others one day. I said that Wolverine **had** to be big; he just had to. Jean-Paul said he read somewhere that excessive testosterone can actually result in a small penis. I refused to believe that. But Jean-Paul said he had no idea for sure; apparently during our days of group showers, he had managed to check out the other guy's asses, but not the other side. "I'm not interested in them when they're not hard," he'd said, shrugging.He's always been more interested in where to put penises, rather than penises themselves. (Another reason why he and I are such a good, um, fit.)

So there, I've addressed it. I've finally written a bit on my favorite subject. It was nice to take a little mental break from worrying about my shipmates and feeling stuck on this godforsaken planet. 

***************

Moonstar took a deep breath before answering the page received on her communicator. She finally pressed the button to respond. "Go ahead, Marrow."

"How about a movie tonight?" Marrow asked. 

"I think we've watched all the movies on board this ship. All of the good ones, anyway." The Pirates had uploaded materials from the files of the Conqueror. This included several movies, but very few were of the ilk Dani wanted to view. The rest of the crew didn't care for most of them either.

"Well, let's watch one we've already seen. Like how about 'Girls' Night Out'?"

Moonstar wasn't sure, but she thought 'Girls' Night Out' might have been the title of the porn film that she and Marrow watched together during her second day on board the Vengeance. `If not, it's the name of **some** porn film, anyway,' Dani said to herself. If it wasn't obvious from the title, the tone of Marrow's voice clearly gave it away.

"Not right now. I'm kinda tired."

"I meant later," Marrow's voice was more insistent. "Like after dinner or something. Let's have dinner together and watch it afterwards."

Dani knew she was entering a potential asteroid field now. She decided to risk it. "No thanks."

Marrow didn't reply for several seconds. Dani stood around in her quarters, unsure of what to do. It seemed as though Marrow had turned off her communicator. Dani did not want to resume the journal writing she'd been doing. The mood had been pretty much broken, so she placed her journal back on the bed. She paced around for a bit before hearing a knock at her door.

"Marrow?" she asked.

"Yeah. Can I come in?"

`Can I really say no?' Dani wondered. "Sure," she replied.

Marrow stepped through the doorway. "Hi," she said awkwardly.

"Hi," Dani replied. She suddenly felt her cheeks grow warm.

"I, um….I miss you. That's, like, why I wanted to see the movie with you. We haven't been spending much time together lately." Marrow spoke the truth. During the week since the Pirates destroyed the Conqueror, Moonstar had fastidiously avoided her paramour. For several days, it seemed as if Marrow had intelligently given Dani her space. 

Dani sighed and sank down into a chair in her room. There was no way she could continue to just avoid Marrow for the remainder of her time here. "Marrow. Look. I am upset at what you did on board that ship. I feel really funny…spending time with someone who did stuff like that."

"But you already knew that I did that stuff when you agreed to join our crew!" Marrow said angrily as she flung her arms into the air.

"Well, I knew it in theory." Her voice was low and quiet. She hoped to diffuse Marrow's anger. "Suddenly now it's real. I'm wigged out at spending time with you now. It's like you're a different person, some sort of killing machine."

"Do you think Storm's a killing machine too?"

"What?!" Dani leaned forward in her chair. "Of course not. Why would you even think that?"

"Rogue and Gambit and Wolverine killed the FOH soldiers who got them, all those years ago. And I don't remember Storm trying to stop them."

"Well, neither of us was **there**, Marrow. I don't know what really happened there any more than you do." Dani tried to glean her memory for recollections of what she was told of those days in the X-men's history. They were days that no one spoke much about anymore. "Besides, it's different. Storm didn't do any killing, for one thing. And the soldiers had just finished assaulting the X-men. The X-men didn't turn around and decide to kill every other FOH member they encountered from then on."

"So it's okay if you kill the ones that raped you, but it's not okay if you kill the ones that raped other people?" Marrow's back nearly arched.

Moonstar sighed. "I don't know, Marrow. Maybe it's never okay. And like I said, we don't really know what happened back then. I highly doubt, though, that the X-men – or just Wolverine, Gambit and Rogue – drew out the killing of the soldiers for five days while they re-enacted what was done to them. And anyway, whatever they did, it happened years ago and I'm not sure it's even relevant to what we're talking about." She drew another breath. "I think I have more of a problem, mentally, with you torturing FOH soldiers than with you….executing them."

"What's done is done. This is the mission of the Pirates, and you knew that when you signed on. And we're not changing it." Marrow's anger continued to pulse. "You also signed on to spend time with me, whether we spelled that out specifically or not."

"So what are you going to do? Chain me to your side? Drag me kicking and screaming to that stupid porn flick?"

Marrow's eyes flashed. "If I have to."

Dani held her breath as she watched Marrow's anger rise. Fleetingly, Dani wished that she had trained more diligently. She knew how to control her powers but rarely used them. 

"Why don't you get out?" Dani asked, rising from the chair and gesturing towards the door. She mustered all her dignity and fought to keep her voice steady and calm. "Cool off a bit and let's talk more later." She took a few steps in the direction of the door, trying to usher Marrow that way.

Dani's demeanor failed to placate Marrow. "Why don't **you** get a grip!" Marrow yelled. "You're here to do what I say!"   


With that, Marrow gave Dani a shove, knocking her off her feet. She fell backwards onto the bed. 

Marrow lunged towards the bed, pressing her hands against Dani's shoulders to hold her down. She then tilted her head and planted a rough kiss on Dani's mouth.

Moonstar turned her head to the side. She considered trying to reach for one of Marrow's bones and ripping it off to possibly use as a weapon, but she knew the chances of defeating Marrow in battle were slim. She had not been practicing the karate that Wolverine had taught her too often either.

Instead, she decided to try to communicate with Marrow. This time, she allowed her voice to rise. "Marrow, you listen to me. If you do what I think you're going to do, I'll never speak to you again. Do you understand??" She nearly yelled the question.

Dani observed the color drain from Marrow's face within the span of a second. She sat up now, swinging her legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Dani promptly got off the bed, onto her feet. 

"Same thing goes if you ever shove me like that again," Dani said, sensing a small victory. "Shit, you nearly knocked the wind out of me. Is this the way you treat those you say you love??" Dani silently cautioned herself to cease. She had accomplished what she wanted. Marrow was sitting with her head in her hands, and Dani wondered if she might even be sobbing. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry, Dani," Marrow muttered. She kept her head in her hands. 

Dani's voice was quiet and steady again. "Marrow, why don't you go now? I've had enough for one day."

"I'm sorry," Marrow shamefully repeated, this time looking at Dani. Her face was red and teary.

"If you want me to say, 'It's okay,' you can forget it. Marrow. Go. I don't want to see you anymore today."

Marrow shuffled out of the room, not making eye contact with Dani.

Dani counted twenty seconds, and then immediately went to Storm for solace. They sat side by side on the sofa in Storm's room, Storm with an arm around Moonstar. 

"How can ya not love it here?" Dani mumbled sarcastically. "I almost get raped. You get hit by a psychic blast. They're just treating us like royalty here."

"Dani, as soon as I recover my strength, we shall speak with Marrow and Psylocke." Storm knew that she still had a way to go before feeling like her powerful self once more. "We agreed to join them for a year, but we never agreed to allow them to abuse us."

"I wanna be back with the X-men." As much as Moonstar wished otherwise, it came out as a whine.

"As do I. Sometimes, I comfort myself with thoughts of what the X-men must be doing now. With the dilithium the Pirates gave them, and the information I got from the Pirates about the planetwith dilithium, think of what the effects must be. Perhaps earth is changing just as we speak, and mutants are being freed. Maybe FOH is falling."

These lofty thoughts failed to console Moonstar. "I feel guilty that you're here because of me."

"I feel tremendous guilt that we **allowed** you to agree to this exchange. Even if it is helping mutants on earth, I understand now that we made a terrible mistake. I shall always regret this."

"What does it matter? What's done is done, and we shouldn't beat ourselves up over it."

They were both silent for a few seconds. Dani then mournfully said, "I miss Jubilee."

"I am sure that she misses you as well."

"You think so? Even after what I did to her?"

"Dani, your only crime was misreading her feelings for you. I think now that time has passed she understands this."

"I hope so. I really miss her. Hell, I miss everyone. Bobby… Hank….Jean….Wolverine."

Storm closed her eyes and nodded. "Goddess, I miss him so much," she breathed. "I thought that someday I might become used to it, but it just gets worse and worse." She silently pondered how little time she and Wolverine had had to truly function as a couple. For so long, they had been just sex partners. Then Storm had cut him loose when she saw his attraction to Sara. The amount of time they had spent reunited afterwards, as a true pair, seemed so heartbreakingly brief.

Dani's heart raced at hearing Storm's admission. She didn't open up about her feelings too often. Moonstar knew that Storm loved him, but it was another thing to hear her admit it so passionately.

"Some day," Dani said. "Someday you'll be reunited."

Storm nodded. She would scarcely admit it to Dani – or to herself even---, but she did sometimes wonder whether Wolverine might find solace in the arms of another woman. She did not doubt his love for her, but that fear did lurk in the back of her mind. `Would he be only human if he did?' Storm wondered. 'I was the one who kept insisting upon leaving.'

Storm's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Who is it?" Storm asked. 

"It's Alexander."

Storm invited him in. After he greeted both women, he asked Storm, "Are we still doing dinner tonight?"

"Oh! Of course." The look on her face gave away the fact that she had, temporarily, forgotten about their plans. 

"Dani, would you like to join us?" Alexander asked.  


"I'd love to," Dani responded sincerely.

Storm and Alexander had planned that he would use his powers to create rice, as well as basil and oregano. They were a few of the ingredients in a stuffed eggplant dish that Storm had mastered. 

"Mmmmm," Dani sighed as she enjoyed her meal. "This is amazing."

"I believe it is due to the fact that the food Alexander creates far surpasses replicated food," Storm said. The three were sitting in the mess hall together.

Alexander smiled. When he did so, the lines around his eyes and mouth actually enhanced his features, Dani thought. "This is a nice change of pace," he said. "The soldiers just complained about how bland my food was, how they wished they could eat replicated pizza and hamburgers more than once per week."

"Did the FOH soldiers really exist on rice and grains and vegetables during their mission?" Dani asked.

"Basically. Before I left earth, they made me create food that was to be used on four different starship missions. They also had me refill the supplies for several FOH bases." Alexander then added, "They never told me much, but I figured it out from what I saw and overheard. They saved money by skimping on things, leaving the perks –such as rich food-- for their officers."

"I just pictured those bastards livin' in the lap of luxury," Dani said. 

"That isn't the case for most FOH soldiers. Every corrupt empire hoards money and luxury for those at the top, but it's a different story for your rank-and-file. Most of them don't have money to live outside of the barracks at the FOH camps, even if they'd been allowed to. Or to do things like going out to a fancy restaurant."

"That certainly does not surprise me," Storm commented. 

There was silence for a few moments. "Can you make an ice cream sundae?" Dani asked, smiling.

"Unfortunately, no." Alexander returned her smile. He then added, "I must say that I am privileged to find myself dining with two X-men. I knew of your group before you left earth. I heard about you."

"Did you ever consider joining us?" Storm asked.

"I was a med student living in Illinois, with no powers other than making food. I thought you might laugh if I asked to join."

"Not at all," Storm said. 

"They could've always used doctors, I'm sure," Dani guessed.

"Dani, would you tell me about your powers again? I forgot what you said they are," Alexander said.

"Um, I forget sometimes too," she joked. "Basically, I can project three-dimensional images of a person's fears. I'm not like a regular telepath though. Like, if I concentrate, I can get an image of someone's fear and project it but I can't read their mind in any other way. And I have a hard time tapping in to my powers. Some mutants seem to be able to like use their powers in their sleep, but when I used to train with the X-men, it could take me five minutes of really intensely concentrating on someone to read what their fears were. And another a few minutes to be able to project any of them. That wouldn't help too much in battle."

"Ah, but it could. It is all a matter of practicing, Dani," Storm said. "The more you practice, the more you would be able to easily use your powers." This was almost a sore subject between the two of them. Dani had never applied herself to training with the amount of dedication that other X-men had. She had progressed well in karate lessons with Wolverine, but did not translate that into skill with learning her powers.

"I know," Dani said. "But I feel weird doing it. How would you like it if I were to project your deepest, darkest fear against that wall right now?" Dani asked, gesturing. "I didn't want to do that to any of my fellow X-men."

"It's the only way to learn. You might need to use it in battle someday, and the X-men understand it would be worth some discomfort from us for you to be well-trained. We all must learn to suffer defeat during Danger Room sessions. I have been defeated by the other X-men in simulated battle, and I appreciated it. By learning my weaknesses, I become a stronger fighter." Storm was surprised at the sensation she felt, almost a hunger for battle. But her body and mind were still too weak from Psylocke's damage.

Moonstar nodded. She looked at Alexander and added, "I promised her when I return to the X-men that I'm to start training for a few hours a day again." She then added, "Though maybe I oughtta just use my powers against some of our lovely shipmates – no guilt there!"

As if on cue, the doors to the mess hall parted. The trio all turned their heads to see who was entering. Psylocke strode into the room. She was clad in a red strapless evening gown, with a slit in the skirt reaching nearly her waistline. Her shoes had heels of about three inches in height, and her hair spilled down around her shoulders.

Dani blinked. As much as she disliked the person, she had to admit that Betsy was stunningly gorgeous. 'Shit, why couldn't **she** have been the one to have a crush on me?' Dani wondered, though her sentiment wasn't serious. Psylocke was sexy, but Dani couldn't fathom having any sort of relationship with her either.

Psylocke seated herself next to Alexander, effectively ruining their dinner. She flirted outrageously with him, and ignored Storm and Dani. He skillfully and tactfully deflected her advances, and attempted to turn the conversation back around to the two other women. At one point, Alexander even lifted Psylocke's hand from his thigh and gave it back to her. After a while, Betsy grew bored and left.

"She doesn't take hints well," Alexander stated, trying to be diplomatic.

Storm shook her head. "Dani and I were talking in my quarters before you came. Once my strength is fully recovered, I am going to speak with this ship's leaders. They must stop treating us this way."

"Just let us know if you want us there when you approach them," Dani said.

******************

TO BE CONTINUED

And a note from the author…..

VOTE, BABY, VOTE! Time for an informal readers' poll with one question: which couple is your favorite? I have a good guess as to how this might turn out based on the emails I get from readers. But then I wonder, am I only hearing from certain readers? Please take a minute to email me your favorite couple in this series, and if you have a couple that's a close second, you can mention them as well. Thanks! Stormkpr@usa.net


	22. Chapter 22

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

In addition to thanking Leigh for her beta testing, I also want to thank my friend Severine for her recent –and excellent -- beta testing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

******************

Rogue and Gambit found Shaman outside of the airlock one afternoon. Shaman had ventured outside of Freedom, and was hanging up his coat, hat, and scarf. "The weather is getting better," he told them.

"You mean like above zero?" Rogue asked.

"I think that someday soon we will be able to spend more time outside. Today was not bad at all." Shaman then paused and asked, "Are you two going outside now?"

"No. We, uh, Shaman, we wanted to ask you a favor. Would you do a ceremony for us?" Rogue asked.

"We wanted to say goodbye to the little one," Gambit explained. "To do it more formally."

"We, uh, heard that you and your wife lost a baby once too," Rogue added awkwardly.

Shaman was not surprised at the request. The last few days, both members of the couple seemed more like themselves. Rogue was now seen without her gloves. 

"We did lose a baby," he said. "The ceremony we had helped us to recover. I would be honored to facilitate a ceremony with you. When would you like to do this?"

"Whenever's good for you," Rogue replied.

"Would you like this ceremony to include the three of us only, or anyone else?"

Rogue and Gambit looked at each other. "What you t'ink, chere?" he asked.

Rogue was quiet for a while. "I dunno. Maybe private would be better." She paused. "But what we went through effected everyone."

"True. But we be the ones doin' the sufferin.' Even dough we know dey care 'bout us, we the ones who lost the baby."

"May I make a suggestion?" Shaman asked. "Perhaps two ceremonies might be in order. One for the two of you only. A second one, perhaps, for the entire team. Silver Moon and I used this approach and we liked it."

The idea was embraced by the still-grieving couple. Shaman immediately began preparations, and they held their private ceremony that evening in the main conference room. A "Please Do Not Disturb" sign was placed outside, on the door.

Rogue and Gambit sat on the floor, facing each other in the semi-darkness. Candles lit by Shaman sparingly illuminated the room. 

Remy's heart rate sped up. The grief from their loss and the pain of his guilt still covered him like a shroud. His bones were weary, and yet he couldn't explain the twinge of nervousness he felt too. His ears involuntarily perked up when he heard the sound of a flute in the background.

"Music from Dani Moonstar will help us to set the mood," Shaman murmured in explanation. Since the CD player used up only a miniscule amount of dilithium, it was not off-limits to the team. 

"For a second I thought she was back with us," Rogue said, and sadness at being separated from Dani -- and especially Storm -- added another layer of loss to the ritual.

"Close your eyes," Shaman's rhythmic voice commanded. "Breath deeply. Inhale….exhale." He paused for several moments, and then repeated, "Inhale…..exhale." Shaman continued to have them focus on their breathing for a while. The flute music played in the background, melodic and lush.

"Now open your eyes," he said, after quite some time. As always, Shaman's voice sounded like a gentle, though simultaneously commanding, suggestion. "Look at each other."

Remy awaited more direction, but none came. He was content to obey Shaman; he knew the wise healer would help them deal with their pain. He looked into Rogue's green eyes, which gazed steadily back at him. 

Rogue almost jumped back, looking into Gambit's fiery pools which spoke of such deep love and intensity. She still had to beat back doubts as to whether or not she truly deserved this type of love. Looking at him, she realized that he struggled with the same self-doubts, and how ridiculous these doubts were. She then pondered whether he had just reached the same conclusion. The remnants of the mindlink they shared told her that he did.

Shaman observed the intensity of their look, all of their emotions on display as they continued to gaze at each other. He, too, was stung by sadness and he desperately missed his own wife and daughter. His focus, however, remained on the ceremony.

"Tell each other how you feel. Even if you have already said similar words before, share with the person you love your emotions – whatever is on your mind right now. The person in front of you is your soulmate, your life partner. This is a safe place. You can share whatever thoughts and feelings you have with this person whom you love."

Perhaps the couple was not yet ready to break eye contact. They remained looking into each other's eyes, allowing Shaman's words to resonate. Finally, when the time felt right, Rogue broke the silence. "I love you, Remy. I feel we can get through this."

Gambit spoke from his heart. "I feel dat too chere. I love you." 

Shaman waited, encouraging them to speak more. After more moments of silence, they opened up. Rogue and Gambit laid bare their grief, their dashed hopes and dreams, their crushing sense of loss. 

"I wanted dis baby, chere. An' I miss the baby," Remy said, repeating sentiments he had expressed earlier. Then, after a pause, he added. "Some days I did feel two ways 'bout it 'dough. Some days I worried 'bout whether I was ready for dis. For becomin' a pere. I worried sometimes whet'er I be a good dad." He gulped and then, sensing it would be alright, finally spoke the words. "Dere were some days I didn't want the baby."

Rogue listened to those words, digesting them. "I sensed that sometimes. Part of me kinda knew that. But I ignored it," she admitted, her voice cracking. "I was so gung-ho on havin' a baby, an' I didn't always consider your feelins. I'm sorry, Remy. I was kinda selfish."

"Chere, I can't say how sorry I am. Dis make me feel all the more guilty dat we lost the baby. I swear to you, amour, dat I did not want dis to happen."

"I know." She said it, and it was true. Rogue understood that he was suffering as much as she was, if not more, due to his guilt.

"Remy," Rogue began again softly, "I know you wouldda made a great daddy."

"I hope you be right, chere. An'….an' I know dat we can get 'drough dis toget'er."

"I think we can do it. Hell, Remy, you got me outta that coma with your love. You rescued me from that sorcerer. Think of everythin' we've been through – I know we can handle whatever comes our way."

When the pair had finished pouring their hearts out to each other, Shaman continued the ritual. He asked them to pray together, to whatever higher power they believed in. "Ask for healing of your grief. For protection in future pregnancies, should you choose to have them. For strength. And for you to never forget the depth of your bond with each other and your love."

Rogue and Gambit respected the moment of silence. Rogue did say a few prayers, hoping that they might be heard. She wondered whether Remy was praying too. She knew he harbored doubts about the existence of a divine power, though she thought he believed in one deep inside his heart. The more she reflected on it, she felt fairly confident that he did say a few prayers, though she wondered where he directed them to.

Rogue opened her eyes to see that Shaman had created a small fire, contained inside what appeared to be a kettle. "I would like to conclude this ceremony by asking you bid farewell to this baby and what the baby represented to you. Once we say farewell, we can move forward."

He had placed paper and pencils on the table next to where they sat. Shaman handed both Rogue and Remy the writing materials. Working together and saying very little, the grieving pair solemnly wrote a few lines about Rogue's pregnancy. When they had finished, they regretfully placed the paper inside the fire. 

Remy watched the fire burn. He felt that the words they'd written spontaneously were poetic and should be kept, and treasured. `Gotta say goodbye to dem,' he mused. 'Jus' like we gotta say goodbye to the baby.' He pulled Rogue closer. 

******************

The day after the incident with Marrow, Dani Moonstar paced around her quarters. She was uncertain of how to proceed. She picked up her pen and wrote across the pages of her journal.

She had just come from one of the conference rooms in which she and Storm occasionally "hung out". Dani had played Storm a few songs on her flute. Storm smiled appreciatively. From looking at the Weather Goddess, Dani easily detected that Storm was not yet strong enough to confront Psylocke or Marrow. The fire had not yet returned to her eyes. They still played the flute together, and Storm sometimes struggled with songs she'd known well. It scared Dani. She couldn't say that she'd known Storm for too long, but it seemed quite uncharacteristic of Storm to take so long to recover. The other X-men had told stories of Storm's legendary stamina and robustness --- one day an enemy could have practically torn her body to shreds, the next she was flying around hurling lightning bolts at the bad guys.

__

Well, it's not like that anymore. Looks like it could be days or weeks before Storm feels like herself again, Dani wrote in her journal. _But I can't go days or weeks without seeing Marrow. She's gonna find me. You just can't keep avoiding someone on a starship for too long – they're always there._

When finished with her songs, Moonstar did not ask Storm for direction on what to do next. _Maybe I got to figure this out on my own and not bother her._

Dani did like Alexander, but she sure didn't feel ready to start confiding in him or asking his counsel, even though she could tell that he was a reasonable man. _He's cool. I could probably talk to him about this if I wanted to. _

__

Part of the problem's that I can't figure Marrow out, Dani began a new paragraph. _Whatever she feels for me, it's not just sexual. There's more there. She calls it love but I know it's not really that either. Maybe I'm too forgiving of her, but I think she wants to be a better person. Maybe she sees me as inspiration for becoming a better person._

Dani stopped the movement of her hand and shook her head. _Or maybe not. She still went ahead and killed all those soldiers. She's completely unapologetic about it, too. Maybe she's just a crazy woman with an intense crush on me. You never know how she's going to react or what she's going to do. She's at least partly mentally ill. Or mentally damaged. I'm afraid to talk to her, I know. But I can't go on being afraid of her either._

Mustering her courage, Dani tracked down Marrow. Marrow had been on the bridge, but she stepped off it to answer Dani's call.

"Was I interrupting something?" Dani asked. They stood in the corridor just outside the bridge.

"No," Marrow said. She briefly looked at Moonstar before averting her eyes. "Psylocke and I were just deciding where to go next." Marrow settled on looking in the direction of the door to the bridge.

"Oh. So where's it gonna be?"

"We don't know. We're thinking of maybe just keepin' in the direction we're goin'." 

The Vengeance had been on a slow course towards earth. Logic had it that the closer they came to their home planet, the more FOH vessels they would encounter. However, Dani was encouraged by the fact that Marrow's words and tone didn't exactly sound bloodthirsty. 

"Oh," Dani responded. "Have we encountered any more ships? Any signs of FOH trying to track down their friends on the Conqueror?"

"No," Marrow said, fleetingly returning her gaze in Dani's direction. "It's pretty quiet in this sector."

Both women then began to simultaneously say something. Awkwardly, Dani insisted that Marrow speak first.

"I, um, just wanted to say that I was sorry. About yesterday. I feel like such a shit."

These words flooded Moonstar's ears with relief. "Well, you should. If you went through with what you were gonna do, you'd be as low down as an FOH bastard."

"I know." Marrow's eyes were firmly fixed on the floor. Dani even detected a hint of pink on her face.

"So what are we going to do, Marrow? What's next for us?"

Marrow looked baffled. Dani could see that she clearly had no relationship experience and no idea how to work out issues. 

"How about an agreement never to use any physical force on each other," Dani suggested, framing it as a statement rather than question.

"Okay. I promise."

"And maybe an agreement to treat each other with respect and kindness."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course!" Marrow's voice gained a bit of enthusiasm and confidence.

There was silence for a bit. Marrow looked back down at her boots. She then looked up and asked, "Um, do you forgive me, Dani?"

Inwardly, she sighed. "Yes," Dani replied.

"How about a movie tonight?" This was the most eagerness Dani had heard from Marrow in ages.

"Don't press your luck," Moonstar replied with confidence, before turning away. Marrow did not follow her. 

*****************

The weather started to warm up and there was talk of us someday soon being able to spend more than a few minutes at a time outside. I ran into Gambit outside of the rec room, just as I was exiting it.

"You leavin'?" he asked.

"Um, I was just going to the bathroom," I explained.

"Don't be too long. I'm in the mood for a game of poker."

I sighed. "Yeah, of course you want me in the poker game. I'm a crappy player."

He smiled. "You look so cute when you try to hide your hand. Is so clear when you be fakin' it."

I rolled my eyes. Wasn't much else I could do; he was right, I'm sure. But it didn't really matter. Since we didn't have any money, it wasn't like you lost anything in these games. (Except your pride, but mine's been trampled so many times during the card games, I don't have much to lose.) 

"Hey, uh, Gambit," I began, "how are you doing?" I had to ask it, and I felt safe doing so. He'd been looking so much better the last few times I'd seen him, and same for Rogue.

"Gonna be jus' fine, Bobby. Rogue's doin' a lot better too."

"That's good to hear. I—I'm so glad."

"Me too. We had a ceremony wit' Shaman yesterday," he explained. "It helped. We said goodbye." There was such finality in his voice. Gambit then paused and added, "We talked 'bout maybe havin' a ceremony wit' the whole team, but now Rogue and I not so sure. Dis be our loss, an' maybe only us should be doin' the grievin' ceremonies."

I nodded, honored that he'd opened up so much. This was the longest conversation I'd had with Gambit in quite some time. "That makes sense. But you know we all grieve for you and with you. I'm heartbroken at your loss."

Gambit touched a hand to my shoulder. "Me too. But _life goes on_. We gonna survive dis. We gonna be okay."

I looked at Gambit and had to smile. I got the idea that his prediction would prove to be accurate.

******************

The precocious two-and-a-half year old struggled to make sense of the emotions surging through her head. As Charlotte toddled through the halls of the grounded starship, on any given day she felt the emotions of her extended family. 

Uncle Kurt's patience and tranquility….sorrow and longing from so many of her Uncles and Aunts—such as Wolvie, Hank, the reclusive Jeanne-Marie….remnants of guilt from Uncle Remy….guilt from Uncle Hank too, though regarding an entirely different thing, of which Charlotte knew nothing about….frustration from Daddy. A million other emotions whirling around at any given time, too. The emotions changed from one day to the next, from one moment to the next. Some feelings were omnipresent – Aunt Rogue had been sorrowful for a while now, though Charlotte knew she was doing better--- but for most people the feelings changed often. 

Charlotte couldn't ask why she experienced other people's emotions. She did sense that she was the only one given this gift. Her mother was similar to her, she felt. But Uncle Bobby and Aunt Jubilee had no way to read the others' emotions. Nor did little Aurora. The thought that she was alone with this ability didn't trouble Charlotte, though it would grow to puzzle her.

She already sensed that her baby brother wasn't quite like her either. Somehow she knew that he was a more ordinary being than she. She felt his love for her and for their parents, and Charlotte returned Christopher's love wholeheartedly. 

She wanted to comfort her family. When someone was upset, she wanted to reach for them, whether it was Uncle Wolvie or Aunt Rogue. Rarely was she turned away. Even Aunt Rogue – who had been shutting her out -- welcomed her embrace the other day, though Aunt Rogue had tears forming and Charlotte felt her piercing sense of loss. 

******************

Not that long ago, I wrote about a sort of taboo topic, a topic that I loved: men's penises. I'm now going to write about a **really** forbidden topic: what I like to do in bed. 

Look at me -- what I wrote above was so vague. "What I like to do in bed." Even **I** apparently have trouble writing about it because the topic is so off-limits, so highly charged. But I am going to dive right in.

There are so many things I like about getting fucked. Trust is the first one. You don't surrender that part of your anatomy unless you trust the person you're turning it over to. Love is another aspect of it. I love Jean-Paul, I love the pleasure he gets from doing this, I love seeing him so satisfied. I love the way it feels, too. He's not the only one getting pleasure from it, and that's another facet of it. It feels soooo good. Back on earth, I remember reading a quote from a gay British author: "Your G-spot is up your bum," he said. I think he's right.

I love the intimacy of it. Yeah, I have done the act with strangers, with men I didn't trust or love or feel remotely intimate with, but now -- with the man I love -- it means so much more. Sometimes it feels like we're becoming one person when we get this close, this deep into each other, under each other's skins. Sharing this act is a powerful way of bonding.

There's a level of excitement about it too. I get on my hands and knees (or lie on my stomach, or bend over the chair, or whatever position) and wonder how he'll take me. What is he going to do, is it going to be fast and driving or slow and sensual? Giving up control – it's not scary, it's thrilling. 

There's more to it than all of the above though. There's an element of submission, and an element of shame. No "real" man would ever do what I allow. Once you let yourself get fucked, you've surrendered any last pretence of manliness you had. It's gone, you're done with ---- you're crossing the line, doing what no straight "normal" manly man would do. And people are incredulous that you could actually **like** it. 

And the act itself is considered dirty and unnatural. If you willingly do this, you become defined by it; you become considered dirty and unnatural. More shame is heaped on you; they can't understand why you would willingly "degrade" yourself like this. It places you into a whole different category of men. Now you're a faggot, a queer, a fudge packer – or whatever other names they come up with. No matter how strong my friendship with, say, Gambit or any other heterosexual man becomes, there will always be this wall separating us because I am defined by what I do in bed, and he is not.

Somewhere, deep down, I like all of these things. I'm not bothered by the bit of shame I feel over this; I'm not bothered by the connotations of submission or even of doing something considered unnatural. I'm not even bothered that much, any more, by the fact that I've become defined by it. Maybe this is the heart of the matter, why I like it so much and why it goes far beyond pure physical pleasure. The act is home to me, it's comfort. I've been defined by this ever since, in my early years, I heard the nasty words tossed around the playground and knew they applied to me, ever since I felt my first stirrings of desire for another man. I've felt shame about myself my entire life. I can't leave it behind; it's a part of me. 

******************

I wrote those words yesterday. I'd gotten my inspiration after making love with Jean-Paul that morning. He'd held me in his arms afterwards, murmuring in French about how good it was, how much he loved me. I told him all of the things I liked about fucking. He buried a few kisses on my face and told me he felt the same way. 

Then something happened today.

Jean-Paul and I were eating our breakfast together in our room. We pretty much kept up with our pattern. We'd get up, have a light breakfast in our room together, then work out in the gym, shower, make love afterwards (usually), and then eat more afterwards. We were eating our light breakfast when he brought something up.

"What do you think of monogamy?"

"Monogamy?" I asked, somewhat taken aback. "Like, as in being faithful to your partner?"

"Yes. I mean, did you and Michael ever discuss it, did you decide to be monogamous? You know, that sort of thing," he clarified.

"Hmmmm," I began, thinking, trying to go back into my memory. "Well, we never really talked about it. I never cheated on him. If he cheated on me, I never knew about it." I spoke the truth. I paused and then added, "You know, we lived in San Francisco and I knew some couples who had 'open' relationships."

"Is that so?" Jean-Paul asked, clearly wanting more information.

"Yeah. I knew one straight couple – well, actually they weren't both straight, the girl was bisexual, the guy wasn't – and they had an open marriage. They allowed each other to sleep with someone else. They had rules about it, though – like you had to tell your partner what was going on, had to practice safe sex with the person you were doing." I then added, "I heard of some gay couples that had open relationships too."

"Did it work for any of them?"  


"I don't really know. These are like just people I met at parties or people Michael told me about. I didn't have a big group of friends back then." I paused, took a breath, and then asked, "So….why are you asking this?" 

I have to admit that I felt a bit on the defensive, and I tried to mask it. I hoped the question had come out breezy and natural, as Jean-Paul had sounded when he brought the topic up. I hadn't thought of such things since I lived in San Francisco. During the time Jean-Paul and I had been together, I never had to worry about him cheating on me because there were no other gay guys on An'zhina or in the X-men. So discussions of "monogamy" had been far from my mind. Even if there had been other gay guys around, it's **not** like I would've worried all day and all night about infidelity though. But I guess our circumstances had always made me feel secure in that regard.

"I am just curious," he said, but his tone made it clear that it went beyond this. 

"Were you and Phillipe monogamous?" I asked, probing.

"We were. We talked about it, though. He'd been in a non-monogamous relationship before. We decided not to sleep with other people, but that we would discuss it if we were attracted to others."

"Really?" I asked. I tried to envision how that would work. Part of me would rather not know, I mused. "So did you talk about it? Did you stay monogamous?"

"Yes, and yes. I was faithful to him, though there were a lot of other men I was attracted to, and I talked about it with him."

"Wow," I said flatly. "I can't imagine how to bring that up. I mean, what do you say? 'Honey, just so you know, I'm really attracted to that hot guy at the gym, but don't worry, we're not going to sleep together.'" 

One look at Jean-Paul's face wiped the smile off my face. "Is that it?" I asked, soberly. "Are you attracted to someone else here?" I admit that I was afraid as I asked the question. But not too afraid; the other guys were all straight, so it's not like he could do anything with that attraction. The thought of my lover being fond of anyone else wasn't a pleasant one, though.

And before he answered my question, it popped into my head. "Gambit. You are attracted to him, aren't you?"

Jean-Paul nodded.

I **had** kinda seen it, though I tried not to. Long ago we'd once discussed which of our teammates we thought were hot, and Gambit had topped Jean-Paul's list. But since that talk, I'd assumed his feelings towards Gambit had been harmless like my long-gone crush on Wolverine. So it hadn't worried me in the least. 

I swallowed and looked down. I felt so plain and ordinary compared to Gambit….I knew I was handsome in only a "cute" sort of way, and my looks couldn't compare to Gambit's all-out gorgeousness. My heart dropped to the floor. "Jean-Paul, why did you bring this subject up? Are you asking for permission to sleep with him? I mean, he's not going to do it – I really think he's straight and you know how he feels about Rogue. But is that why you brought this up?"

"No, Robere, no," he said, reaching for me and enfolding me within his strong arms. "I brought it up because it's been bothering me for a while, and Kurt suggested I talk about it with you."

Great. Tell the Catholic monk about your attraction to Gambit. I kept any bitterness out of my voice but shrugged myself out of his embrace. "Why's it been bothering you though? It's natural to get crushes on other people. You know about my crush on Wolverine." The crush mostly was a thing of the past; I don't know why I made it sound like it wasn't. (Actually, I do know why.)

"It has been bothering me, my feelings for Gambit. Bothering me, and so that's why I do want to talk about monogamy. And I do want to know that you won't be mad at me because of my…like for him." The words 'like for him' combined with Jean-Paul's accent were stinging.

"Heck," I forced a small laugh, "I'm not mad at you. It's only human to be attracted to others. I—I love you, Jean-Paul. I think I would be pretty crushed if you decided to sleep with someone else though."  


"And I love you too, amour. I'm not going to sleep with someone else. I just wanted to let you know….what has been going on in my head."

"But so…you're not saying that you want us to be able to sleep with other people, are you?" I then added, muttering, "Even if there were other guys here who'd sleep with you---which there are not."

"No, no, not at all," he responded, as I muttered my comment about there being no other gays here. "Not at all," he repeated. "Like I said, I just want us to be able to talk about things, like I did with Phillipe."

I reached for him and pulled him back into a hug. "Okay. Talking is good. I'm not mad at you for having a crush on Remy." I spoke the truth. I could handle it. He's a guy, and we do get attractions to other people. 

What was bothering me was, I'd have to admit, the fact that he brought it up. My first instinct told me that he wouldn't bring it up unless it was serious. So how serious was this "crush"? Did he fantasize about Gambit when we made love? The thought made my heart plummet. But then I told myself that perhaps this conversation was a result of the pseudo-therapy he's been having with Nightcrawler. He **has** been a lot more communicative since meeting with Kurt regularly; he's been more open and talkative about everything. So maybe, I thought, I should take it at face value and assume that he really just wants to get something off his chest.

"What are you thinking of, amour?" he asked, stroking one of my cheeks.

Since we were being honest, I told him. 

He paused and waited before answering, sounding thoughtful. I stepped away from our hug so I could see the expression on his face better. "I will say that I think Gambit is _tres magnifique. _But when I'm making love to you, I'm making love to **you**, and not to a fantasy." He then added, "And Bobby, you know that I am attracted to you still. I always have been." He smiled. "I fancied you as soon as we saw each other, as soon as we found our way back to the X-men."

I looked into his eyes, and I saw honesty on his face. I nodded. "Okay. Cool."

He reached for my rear end and squeezed it, likening it to two blueberries. I smiled, and he smiled back. 

Later that day, I told him that I was glad we had that discussion, and that I hoped we'd continue to be able to talk about things such as this. He agreed with me. 

In all honesty, I can't say I felt thrilled to learn that the man I loved had the hots for someone else. And I also can't help but remember how pissed off he was at me when he learned that I'd slept with that guy on Ceti III. At the time that happened, Jean-Paul and I had been together for a very, very brief amount of time; we'd never even discussed whether our relationship was exclusive. Yet when I told him what had happened, he was furious. And now, today, he expected me to be just fine upon hearing of his "like" for Gambit.

But he hadn't done anything to break the commitment we had with each other; unlike what I'd done on Ceti III, he hadn't slept with anyone else. And he is only human; you get crushes on other people and that's just the way it is. I do know that he loves me and I trust him, so I just had to accept this. I guess I should've been grateful that he brought it up.

Besides, it's not like I had a choice.

*****************

As Queen Marina left the meeting with her Executive Council, she felt satisfied. Although she had recently survived a censure, things had been returning to normal. Friends of Humanity starships were nowhere in sight, and most Endarians were content to basic forget about the intrusion from outsiders. Marina's power and influence over the council had taken a blow but was slowly regaining its former stature. She was a powerful and well-liked monarch, and she figured that she would stay that way – so long as FOH had the brains to leave Endaria alone.

There were those Endarians who advocated for the removal of the off-worlders from An'zhina, but they were a minority. Under Endarian law, they had a right to express their opinion, a right to dissent. As long as they remained a small minority, the Queen did not need to worry and the X-men and other mutants would likely remain on An'zhina.

Marina's pregnancy was progressing well. She was now over five months pregnant. Her pregnancy was visible, and she was receiving numerous well-wishes from her subjects. The birth would be a joyous, and very celebrated, event. Marina consulted with her close, personal doctor – the only doctor who had served her since she was a child. The doctor recently performed a test and discovered that the baby, a girl, carried the mutant gene. Precisely what Marina had hoped for was underway. 

Endarian society being what it was, no one inquired as to the identity of the father. The father of her son Kotarian was one of Marina's closest friends. As they did not adhere to monogamy, no Endarians really thought it odd that the queen did not disclose the name of the father. As long as a given regent proved him- or herself a strong and capable leader, the people did not care who the regent might have slept with. Whether or not the baby's mutant powers would manifest themselves right away was yet to be determined. It was possible that some xenophobes would deduce the truth of the child's parentage and react negatively. As long as Marina could maintain a handle on the situation – keeping An'zhina quiet with no more interference from FOH or the Pirates---, the Queen did not foresee any serious trouble.

Marina had, more or less, broken off communication with the mutants on An'zhina. She did not want Charles Xavier roaming about her mind; nor did she want any of them to see that she was pregnant. Any necessary communications with the X-men were conducted through one of Marina's advisors. Communication with those on the moon was not really needed much at all; An'zhina ran itself. 

********************

Jubilee lay on the bed, gazing at her lover. In the darkness of the room they shared, a few details could be seen – the nightlight provided illumination and Jubilee's eyes had adjusted to the dark. Her eyes roamed over Sam's slender but muscular build. She smiled at the sight of his large hands, so big compared to her petite ones with their short fingers. She loved his smile and wished he had one on his face now.

"Are you sleeping?" Jubilee whispered. She kept her voice low so as to not wake Rory. It seemed that the toddler could sleep through anything, but she still didn't want to risk anything. It had grown too cramped with Jubilee, Cannonball, and Rory all in one room, so Sam and Wolverine had knocked down a wall between two rooms to create one larger one. It gave all three more space, though the rooms on board Freedom were still small and utilitarian, unlike An'zhina's spacious rooms. The same arrangement – of having combined two rooms into one larger space – worked for Jean, Scott and their brood.

"No," Sam replied quietly. The melancholy was evident in his voice.

Jubilee turned on her side and gently touched his chest. She whispered again, "Is it about….you know? I mean, I like it. I do --- it's good." 

Talking about sex would never be easy or natural, Jubilee felt. Despite all the open conversations she'd had with the other women and how often they stressed the importance of communicating with one's partner, discussions of sex without blushing didn't come without unease. And talking frankly about sex was difficult despite the fact that Sam was **the** person she made love with. `Sheesh, it should be easy to talk about anything with the person you get naked with four times a week!' 

"No, sweetie, I'm fine with it," Sam said, holding her hand in his. "I like it too. I mean, if you're okay with it, then I'm okay with it."

"I told you, Sam, I like it." Attaining arousal, for Jubilee, was not a problem but orgasm was. The couple had accepted the fact that Jubilee rarely or never got an orgasm during intercourse, and they had found ways to deal with it. Generally, Sam would go down on her beforehand or he'd stroke her afterwards, and she usually came then. Sometimes she didn't reach orgasm no matter what, and she truthfully told Sam that she was alright with that. 

"Somethin' else is bothering you then," Jubilee said.

Sam nodded, though Jubilee could barely see the gesture. Jubilee had to gently pry it out of him.

Finally Sam admitted, though his words were of no surprise, "I miss my family."

"Oh, Sam. I know you do. It's such a bummer that we're stranded here. You gotta believe that we're gonna get out of here sooner or later."

"I dunno, Jubilee. Last I talked to Cyclops, he didn't sound too optimistic. He said the shuttle repair is goin' real slow. And they stopped working on the engines."

Jubilee nodded. Hank had told her that cleaning the damage caused by the pea-sized asteroids was akin to open-heart surgery. They were petrified of making any mistakes. 

Sam continued, "I can't stand bein' all cooped up in here any more."

"But they said in a few more weeks, the weather's gonna get better. Hank said it could even get in the thirties and forties, and the sun will come out too. We can spend more than a few minutes outside." The X-men had even discussed setting up tents outdoors. It would probably be too cold to sleep there during the night, but they could spend the better part of the days outside, shielded from the sun's rays by the tents, playing games and eating meals outdoors. 

"I guess that'll help. But it ain't gonna bring me any closer to my folks or Paige."

"I know, sweetie," Jubilee murmured sympathetically, holding his hand tighter.

Sam wondered whether Jubilee truly understood. She'd never known her biological family. Her family had been, from the time she was fourteen years old, the X-men. And as dismal as their circumstances seemed, she was here with her family – most of them, at least. Except for Storm, the family members Jubilee seemed closest to – Wolverine, Bobby, Beast --- were all here with her as well. She didn't truly feel the agonizing separation from family that Sam endured. He liked the X-men and had been accepted at once, but he couldn't say that he fully regarded them as his family yet.

"I don't even know what's happened to them. Has FOH got their hands on them? They were always…being treated badly for spawning a mutant. At the…at the time I left to stay with the Greys, people were after them all the time 'cause of me. Our house got egged, Paige got beat up at school. They threw bricks through our windows one night. I hugged Paige as she cried. I kept wishing I wasn't a 'mutie.'" After Sam went into hiding, the Guthries were able to get word to the Greys a few times, saying that they were alright. It was of slim comfort to Sam though.

"That totally sucks," Jubilee murmured. She couldn't think of anything consoling to say. Sam's fears about his family's fate were probably well-founded, from what they knew of earth. There were no X-men to fight against FOH, and no sympathizers like Moira MacTaggert or the Greys left to assist. The Guthries might very well have been taken into custody by FOH. Or worse. "I wish there was something I could say. Or do about it," Jubilee added. 

"Well, I don't still wish I wasn't a mutant," Sam said, trying to dismiss his pain. "I'm okay with that. I'm just worried 'bout my family."

"Who knows? Maybe things got better on earth. Remember when Jean was in the soldier's minds to convince them to not use the virus? Maybe she planted some seeds of doubt in their minds and things started to change. Heck, maybe groups of mutants are rising up and revolting on their own." Jubilee tried to utter the words with conviction. Occasionally, various X-men had discussions along these lines. They were now so cut off from earth, it was anyone's guess what was going on there. Jubilee thought it might have been Wolverine who pointed out one day that the X-men weren't the only mutants capable of fighting back. Maybe others had risen up in their absence and led a revolution.

"Or maybe things are worse than ever."

"We just don't know. We gotta --- "

"That's just it," Sam cut her off. "I can't stand not knowing! I can't be sittin' around here, wondering and guessing what they're doing to my family --- or all the other mutants on earth. I can't believe Beast let this happen."

Jubilee and Cannonball were silent after his last statement. Public criticism of Hank for his negligence on the bridge was never vocalized. Jubilee really didn't know what other people thought of it. She gossiped openly with Bobby but he never had anything negative to say about his best friend, of course. She guessed that most people cut Beast slack for his blunder. She herself harbored no ill-will towards the gentle man who had shown her nothing but kindness. From what Jubilee could tell, it was an honest mistake and besides, Hank had been undergoing such emotional stress. Stress that he never really shared with anyone. Bobby had not betrayed Hank's confidence but he had told Jubilee enough that she was able to deduce that Hank's marriage was in trouble. 'Well it's not exactly a secret,' Jubilee thought.

Whatever the case, if others resented Hank for his negligence, no one verbalized it.

"It ain't his fault," Sam said softly. "I know it. I could've made the same mistake. I worry 'bout that sometimes too," he sighed. "All the stuff I've done in the gym and Danger Room….I dunno how much it made me ready for real combat. Someday I could mess up on the battlefield." He had kept these feelings bottled up. And he understood why so many people back on An'zhina chose to "vacation" instead of join; being an X-man was stressful, an unending battlefield.

"We all make mistakes at one time or another. But, hey, we always find a way out. I made enough mistakes too but the others always let me off the hook. If you mess up in combat, don't worry."

"Don't worry? I recall hearing 'bout one time that mistakes were made in battle and Colossus ended up dead."

Jubilee's throat constricted at the thought of the gentle giant who had been murdered in cold blood by FOH. She had not been there when it happened, but the stories she'd been told were disturbing enough. She remembered Bobby once telling her of the FOH soldiers demanding that the imprisoned X-men toss Peter's corpse through the airlock. Bobby had watched mutely as the others, forced to obey due to the collar torture, relinquished Peter's dead body to the soldiers. Jubilee pushed these thoughts out of her mind.

"Sam. Sweetie. You can't get hung up on this kinda stuff."

"Course not. We ain't going anywhere, so what's the use?"

Jubilee tried to console her lover, but he continued to toss and turn that night long after Jubilee had fallen asleep.

********************

"I don't need another physical, Alexander," Storm insisted.

"I'm not saying that it will cure everything. But it couldn't hurt if you'd let me examine you again."

Storm cracked an uncharacteristically wry smile, "Why, Alexander, if I did not know you better, I would think that you just want an excuse to see me undressed."

The corners of his mouth threatened to turn upwards, but he willed them down. "Storm, please. I've never asked you to undress for a physical, and I would be content with another tricorder scan." He refrained from adding that tricorder scans were never, in his honest opinion as a medical professional, as comprehensive as a full exam with a partially undressed patient.

She sighed and shook her head. "I'm fine, Alexander. Physically I feel much better. It's up here," she said, gesturing to her temple. "I'm still shaking out some cobwebs. But I am physically fine."

"I see that I'll have to take your word for it." He paused and then added "That's a nice bracelet." When Storm had touched the side of her head, the wooden bracelet had gone into prominent view. Alexander had noticed it before, and he commented on it now, realizing he was fighting a hopeless battle over the examination issue.

"Wolverine made it for me," Storm said. She could not explain why, but she felt the urge to remove the ornament from her wrist and hand it to him. The color of one of the stones on the bracelet was somewhere between coral and amber.

Alexander held it, read the inscription. "He's a lucky man," the doctor said enigmatically. Storm could not decipher whether there were any subtleties behind his words. His compliment could have been taken as flirtation or as a simple pleasantry. But Storm recalled Alexander's words one day -- he was taking a break from sex and relationships, so she determined that there lurked no hidden subtext behind his compliment.

"I am truly the lucky one." She smiled as she replaced the trinket on her wrist. She then added wistfully, "Of course I shall be luckier when Wolverine and I reunited."

"You won't be the only one. I look forward to getting off this ship too." Although Psylocke had been non-committal, it seemed that she would allow Alexander to disembark on An'zhina when the Pirates dropped off Moonstar and Storm.

"We have just under eight months left before the Pirates are slated to return us to the X-men." Storm had been fastidiously tracking the time, as she knew Marrow had been too. She silently added that there was no guarantee that the X-men –Wolverine included---would actually **be** on An'zhina when the Pirates dropped them off. They could be on a mission, still near earth. Storm could only hope and pray.

Alexander shook his head. "Eight more months of Psylocke hitting on me. This is not going to be easy."

"Alexander, let me talk to her about this," Storm insisted. She had made the overture before, offering to mention this too when she confronted Psylocke about her earlier actions against Storm. "She needs to be told that enough is enough."

"No, no," Alexander said, declining the offer once more. "I can handle it myself."

Storm shook her head, affably muttering, "I shall never understand how some men's minds operate. You, Alexander, are stubborn as an ox." 

'Just like Wolverine', she silently added.

********************

The planet's weather continued to slowly improve. Although it was still too cold to remain outdoors for extended periods of time, most X-men ventured outside for brief periods of time around mid-day, when the sun shone its brightest.

Snow still covered the ground, though much less had been falling lately.

"Bet if I get a shovel and start diggin', we maybe can see the ground underneat'," Gambit speculated to Hank one day.

"The composition of the ground should be similar to grass on Earth, according to preliminary read-outs," Hank commented. "My readings suggest that the grass here has a surprisingly similar composition." 

Hank and Gambit were taking a walk. The sun shone more brightly on this planet than usual today, though it was still weak. Hank glanced over his shoulder. The starship was still within reassuring visual range. 

"Are you warm enough?" Hank asked, after a while of silence.

"Don't t'ink I'll ever be warm enough on dis freezin' planet," Gambit muttered, thankful for the woolly scarf and gloves he worse. "But I'm okay. I s'ppose all dat fur keep you nice and warm, huh?"

"I was just contemplating how much I appreciate my coat. It insulates my body from cold temperatures, while paradoxically not stifling me in the heat."

"Nature knew what it was doin' when it built you. Wonder if your li'l boy gonna have the same fur coat as you."

"Panda and I speculated on that many times," Hank said, wistfully. "Rob is a mutant, but we can not foresee the nature of his mutation. Of course….I wonder if perhaps he is showing signs already. Although most mutants do not display the nature of their mutation until puberty, Charlotte revealed her abilities at a young age. Perhaps…perhaps as we speak, Panda can observe the nature of Rob's mutation. I spend many hours wondering about this."

Hank then clamed up and looked at the ground. Gambit took a good look at his friend's pained expression. He said, somberly, "I wonder which be worse. My baby didn't make it. Yours did, but you be separated from him and your wife."

"Neither of us is in an ideal situation," Hank acknowledged, "though I suppose comparing grief is not productive." He sighed. "The poet Edgar Lee Masters once wrote, '_It takes life to love life_.'"

Gambit nodded. He could now talk about the miscarriage without feeling each aching stab at his heart. He knew that Rogue was getting to that point as well. "The bad times help us appreciate the good," he agreed. 

"We must believe that better times are approaching," Hank said, as they continued to walk towards the light of the waning sun.

*********************

The previous day, Storm had announced that she was ready. Over a lunch of bright red peppers stuffed with navy beans, garlic, and parsley (the garlic and parsley courtesy of Alexander), Storm told Dani and Alexander that she planned to talk to Psylocke the next day.

"Too much time has passed already," Storm said. "It's been weeks since she decided to use her powers against me and she acts as though nothing occurred. I want to talk with her."

"Storm, really….how're you doing?" Dani asked. She chewed another bite and couldn't help but to feel trepidation over the inevitable confrontation. Suddenly the hearty dish tasted less flavorful in her mouth.

"I am alright, Dani," Storm said. "Physically, I feel nearly as strong as usual – and you both saw in the gym this morning that my powers are functioning."

"Yeah, but didn't you say it was up **here** that she got you?" Dani asked, gesturing to her temple.

"My mind does not feel as sharp as it once did. I feel a….slowness that I am unaccustomed to. But I am truly alright."

"Only you can tell us if you're ready, mentally," Alexander said. "Physically, you were in good condition at your last physical." 

"I still have control over my powers," Storm agreed.

Realizing that she stood no chance of dissuading her friend, Moonstar simply said, "If she tries anything, just hit your communicator. I'll be standing by. And you're not the only one who's been putting in her time at the gym, remember."

Alexander nodded. "Indeed. It was thrilling to see your powers in action, Dani."

Moonstar had been training rigorously. With Alexander's consent, she pulled an image from his mind and created a three-dimensional manifestation of it. The two had felt flashes of terror at the image of the fierce FOH solider, until Storm shot a few lightening bolts its way, dissolving the mirage. The session had been frightening and thrilling; Dani could not recall feeling so powerful in quite a long time.

With the blessings of her friends, Storm contacted Psylocke and arranged a time for the two to meet. 

"What brings you to see me, Storm?" Psylocke asked at the appointed time. She was sitting back in a cozy reclining chair. Storm had just entered Psylocke's room, and Psylocke crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Storm fleetingly noticed how odd it was that she rarely saw some of those with whom she shared a starship. On board Freedom, people congregated together in the gym or rec room, and they all ate meals together. One never went for stretches of days without seeing all of one's crewmates. But on board the Vengeance, Storm rarely found herself in the gym at the same time as Betsy and, despite a few cooking adventures with the crew, they usually did not share meals. To Storm, the Vengeance often felt like a ghost ship, if not for Dani and Alexander. Off-hand, Storm could not recall the last time she had even seen Psylocke.

She surveyed Psylocke's posture. As always, Betsy looked in control and spoke with an air of authority. She clearly loved being in charge here, having command of a team in a way that she never would have had as an X-man. After spending several months with the Pirates, it became evident to Storm that Psylocke really did run the show; Marrow took a lesser role, especially with her attentions focussed constantly on Moonstar. Psylocke had not let up on her pursuit of Alexander, but she was apparently less in need of immediate gratification. Storm surmised that Psylocke was enjoying the hunt.  


"I need to talk to you about something, Psylocke," Storm said, deciding to dispose of any small talk and pleasantries. Without being asked, she seated herself in a chair opposite Psylocke and sat up straight. "The day that the Pirates attacked the FOH ship," she began, realizing that she could not recall the name of the FOH vessel. Storm silently berated herself. Her memory never used to cause problems such as these. "You did something to me, to render me unconscious."

"I wanted to make sure that you wouldn't interfere with our plans," Psylocke said smoothly.

"I had already given my vow that I would not. You know you can trust my word. And besides…Betsy, you have the ability to read minds. You would have known if I had been planning to stop you. Surely your powers are strong enough that you could have detected any hint of a planned insurrection from me."

"True," Psylocke said, attempting to keep her voice steady and her gaze fixed on Storm. Storm had her there. Psylocke **had** indeed known that Storm would not attempt to impede them.

"So, why did you do it, Psylocke? Did you want to gain some control over me?" The next sentence went unspoken, 'Did you really just want to hurt me?' Storm would never voice those words, though she knew Betsy's action had been all about power and control.

"Like I said," Psylocke began, not meeting Storm's steel blue eyes this time, "I needed to make sure you wouldn't interfere."

Storm remained silent for a few seconds, not wanting to take the conversation in circles. She also knew that keeping silent held some power in her court. Finally, she said, "I gave you my word that I would not. I now need you to give me your word that you will never do anything like that to me again."

Psylocke took in a breath. "Alright," she said. "You have my word." 

Storm left that room feeling mentally confident, a powerful gust of wind trailing her heels. 

*********************

Babysitting Rob became a community pastime for those on An'zhina. Rob was the only baby on the moon; the other children were much older. 

"He's a good kid," Megan said, as she returned the baby to his mother.

"Call us --- we like to see baby again," Kin Lun added in heavily-accented English. 

Panda nodded as she watched them go down the hallway. Rob was asleep. She lifted him from the stroller into his crib. She then sat herself back down in the cushiony chair and gazed out the window.

After time had passed – Panda had no idea how much --- the rumblings in her abdominal region indicated the dinner hour must be near. Silently, she debated whether or not to go. Dinner with the 300 other An'zhinians meant facing their smiles and well-wishes, watching them coo over Rob. It meant forcing her own smile. But another meal eaten in her own room was an almost equally dismal prospect, and it was sure to be followed – at some point -- by another well-meaning visit from the Professor.

Panda sighed and made up her mind. She bundled up Rob inside his stroller and pushed him in the direction of the dining room. 

"There you are, lass. How good ta see you," Moira MacTaggert greeted from her table.

"Hi, Moira," Panda muttered, steering the stroller away from that direction. She couldn't face Moira right now, didn't want to have to again deny her offer of counseling (or "listening", as Moira called it) again.

The following day, Panda decided to leave the building. She didn't go outside every day; all necessary amenities were inside the main complex. But she didn't have a babysitter just then and felt that Rob could use the fresh air.

"May I hold him?"

"Sure," Panda replied, without looking up to see who made the offer. When she did look, she had to narrow her eyes at the brightness of Elena's pink skin. 

It was a surprise to see Elena standing before her. Since the death of Elena's boyfriend Colossus, the pink-skinned Russian woman had withdrawn. She appeared occasionally at events on An'zhina, and certainly the Professor and others had reached out to her too. Panda had dim memories of the Russian congratulating her when Rob was born, but since that time, Panda could not recall having another conversation with her. Panda silently reminded herself to make the effort to be pleasant to Elena. She had suffered as much as anyone.

Elena fussed over the baby. Rob, cranky for his naptime, began to cry. 

"Oh no!" Elena exclaimed.

"It's not you. He's tired. Here," she gestured for Elena to hand the baby over. "Time for his nap." Rob wailed louder.

"Can I help you take him to his nap? Maybe we can sit down and talk too."

To most others, Panda would have declined the offer. She reminded herself of Elena's loss and muttered, "Sure."

Panda couldn't explain what it was that made her open up to Elena that day. Perhaps it was the fact that Elena wasn't connected to the X-men in the way that Moira was. She didn't blame Elena for Hank's absence. Sitting inside her room, Rob having fallen sound asleep, Panda began to talk to the Russian woman.

"How could he leave me like this? How could he leave **him**?" she asked, gesturing at Rob's crib. She clenched her hands together in rage.

Elena sat silently, listening. She did not make any remarks such as 'He was only doing his duty as an X-man,' for which Panda was eternally grateful. 

Before he departed An'zhina, Hank had recorded his voice onto a tape to be played for Rob, so that the baby would become familiarized with his father. Panda had played the tape for Rob only twice, or perhaps three times.

"I don't know if I can ever forgive him for this," Panda continued. She forced herself to slow down and take a breath. Her voice returned to a somewhat more normal tone. "And where the hell **are** the X-men, anyway? They've been gone for so long."

Elena mutely nodded. She had wondered about that herself. Had they encountered trouble again? She, too, had lost a man she cared deeply about because he was performing his duty as an X-man. 

"And I'm going out of my mind trapped here," she added, shaking her head. "The others are great with offering to baby-sit Rob, but **I'm** the one who gets woken up in the middle of the night when he cries. I'm the one who changes his diaper. No one takes care of him like I do. And I do it all alone."

Elena looked at her. She herself had hoped someday to become a mother, that someday she and her beloved Peter Rasputin would wed. She listened, though, with genuine empathy for Panda. 

*********************

So he's hot for Gambit. I can live with that. He's only human, and Gambit's a good looking guy. Actually, "good looking" doesn't quite cut it, does it? He's downright sexy. I mean, **I** don't really view him that way; I've always seen him as a good friend. But I can't blame anyone who finds him hot.

The four of us played cards one evening: Jean-Paul, Remy, Rogue and myself. I kept watching the two of them out of the corner of my eye, looking for any hints or clues. I don't know why I did it; I believed Jean-Paul when he said he would be faithful. And there was no way that Remy was going to cheat on Rogue. (Besides, if anyone on this ship was having an affair, we'd all know it.) 

But there was a glint in Jean-Paul's eyes. I had seen that glint before, usually reserved for me. I'd seen it when he was around Gambit too. I looked down at my cards, trying to make enough sense out of them to continue the game. 'He loves me, but I'm not sexy the way Remy is.' I made myself stop; those self-pitying thoughts would only make me want to cry. It was me who Jean-Paul held in his arms at night.

But I'm not sexy the way Gambit is.

"Hey, Bobby, you still in this game?" Rogue teased, waving a hand in front of my face. Ooops. It was my turn. I set down a card, hoping it was a good one.

I took heart. Thanks to the rumor mill, I knew all about the "triangle" between Jean, Scott, and Wolverine. Though the triangle was now a thing of the past, I knew the scoop. According to word on the street, Jean **had** been attracted to Wolverine (some said _very _attracted), but she hadn't cheated on Scott. Would Jean-Paul show the same fidelity? `It doesn't matter,' I told myself for the hundredth time. `Remy's not going to return what Jean-Paul feels for him.' But, I answered myself, that's not the point. The point is what Jean-Paul feels when it's not directed at me. It wasn't so much fears of a physical tryst between them that bothered me as much fears of Jean-Paul withdrawing emotionally. 

The thoughts continued to loop themselves around and around my mind.

I wondered if Gambit knew of Jean-Paul's crush. Silently, I chided myself. Of course he knew. Remy seems to know everything; he always does. The question was, did Rogue know? She's suffered through so much; her normal vivaciousness was still smothered by the loss of the baby. Maybe she had no idea. And besides, Remy sure didn't return Jean-Paul's crush, so what did she have to worry about? 

She was lucky, I decided.

********************

Sometimes it seemed that the days just dragged by. Other times, I could not believe how many weeks Hank said had passed since we became stranded. We all kept busy enough though. 

"How are the shuttle repairs?" I asked Hank, almost fearful of the answer. 

He responded that it was akin to performing microsurgery. I knew it; he and Cyclops were petrified of making a mistake. With the engines damaged perhaps beyond repair, there was absolutely no room for them to make mistakes on their work with the shuttle.

The weather was warming up. We bundled ourselves in layers of clothing and enjoyed a snowball fight outside. The snow was melting furiously; Hank predicted it would be one of the last few days we could use the snow for fun, and Cyclops agreed. "The temperature's going to be in the forties and fifties next week," he said. That didn't sound too warm by earth standards, but after what we'd been living with, it would be paradise. We already were making plans to set up tents and perhaps a volleyball net.

********************

Wolverine retired to his quarters late one night. He reached into his dresser drawer and pulled out an envelope. The envelope contained the most precious items on board this ship, in his estimation. Pictures of Storm.

The Endarians allowed the mutants on An'zhina to replicate cameras, and Wolverine had taken a few pictures of the woman he loved. One was a close-up of her face. She looked pensive, resting her head on the palm of her hand and gazing out a window. Looking at her beautiful face nearly made Wolverine sigh, even though he had seen this picture countless times since their separation. He viewed the faraway expression in her blue eyes, wondering what she was thinking of at the moment that picture had been taken and what she was thinking of today.

He looked at the other photographs. In one, Storm wore a blue dress with a short skirt. It was taken before one of their dancing lessons with Agata. He'd agreed to take the classes with her. Wolverine felt Storm looked best in blue. Her glossy white hair shone, and the short skirt emphasized her long legs. Another photograph, taken by a fellow An'zhinian, showed Wolverine and Storm standing with their arms around each other. He was smiling.

The rest of the pictures were taken solely by Logan. One showed Storm sitting on the grass of the forest's floor, a stirring look in her eyes. After Wolverine had snapped that picture, Storm had started to remove her clothing. "I want you to photograph me in the nude," Storm had said simply. Wolverine had not been about to argue with that idea.

The next three pictures were from that photo session. A playful shot showed Storm perched on a branch of a tall tree. She was smiling, elated at frolicking around naked in her beloved outdoors. The next picture was one of Logan's favorites. Storm lay on her back, next to a pond that was nestled inside the deep forest. Her feet were crossed at the ankles, and her head was tilted back. It was a sensual picture; she looked so at home and so connected to her senses, laying on the ground naked and relaxed, an exquisitely beautiful creature of nature. The third picture showed Storm emerging from the pond, her brown skin glistening with water. Her hands were behind her neck, squeezing water out of her hair. Her lush breasts figured prominently, hanging down like ripe fruit.

The adored pictures were sorry substitutes for the real thing. Gazing at Storm's lips wouldn't allow Logan to kiss them, nor would looking at her breasts allow him to touch their softness. He craved the taste and scent of her womanhood.

It was time for another paltry substitute. Wolverine unbuttoned his pants and reached for his already stiff member. Stroking it, he thought of Storm, how much he ached to hold her, ached to make love to her. Tonight he had to relieve a physical need; he frantically gripped himself. Physical pleasure pumped through his veins, it burned; he needed to be released. Logan continued to stroke until the stickiness spilled from him. He went to bed that night knowing that he would somehow continue to possess the strength to survive another day deprived of Storm. Somehow.

Meanwhile, across the galaxy, Storm had an evening filled with similar loneliness and yearning. She carefully set the bracelet Logan had made for her on the nightstand, as she shuffled through her photographs of herself and her lover. She had snapped his picture one day, outdoors as he had been doing woodworking. He was shirtless. She loved the smile on his face, the adoring look that he'd given Storm behind the camera. She longed to grab him by the hair and smother him with kisses and words of love. She looked again at the photograph, noting the tantalizing view of his strong arms and shoulders. Her heart pounded with love as she felt a corresponding need from elsewhere.

Storm then reached for a toy. Dani had asked Marrow for permission to replicate it, ostensibly for Dani herself; she'd wanted to save Storm from any embarrassment. Storm had the dildo by her side as she slowly touched herself all over, starting with her own arms and shoulders. She lightly scored the skin, giving herself goosebumps. Her hands traveled down, cupping and massaging her breasts before lovingly touching her taut abdomen. She stroked her soft, muscular thighs, grateful for all they did for her and savoring the sensations she experienced. 

Storm then spread her legs and leisurely made her way towards her clit. She unhurriedly stroked it for several long moments, remembering how Logan used to do this to her. Firmly, expertly. She slid the dildo inside. It was large, as Logan was large. 

Storm gripped the tool, thrusting it in and out of her body. She shuddered a small climax. Before falling asleep that night, she prayed to the Mother Goddess that she and her lover would soon be reunited.

****************

****

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's Note 

Well, I guess this last scene was very appropriate because last time I asked you to vote for your first and second favorite couple in the series. **Storm and Wolverine** won, but only by a hair. **Rogue and Gambit** were behind by a mere one vote. Those two couples left all the others in the dust, but other pairings receiving votes were **Bobby and Northstar**, and **Dani and Marrow**. 

As always, I love to hear from readers! Reach me at stormkpr@usa.net


	23. Chapter 23

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

__

With thanks Severine. What would I do without you?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

****************

"I know who my Daddy is!" Young Aurora announced to her mother one afternoon.

The weak sun was rising, and the mother-daughter pair had decided to venture outside for a walk. Jubilee actually found herself too warm in the layers of clothing and mittens. Perhaps all the talk of outdoor games and fun was not as far-fetched as it had seemed.

"Who, Rory?" Jubilee asked. She would play along, wanting to investigate how Rory's mind worked. She wondered if the child would respond with Sam's name --- he spent so much time with her --- or perhaps Bobby or Wolverine. The child, as her mother, favored those three men. Rory was three years old now, and bright. 

"Peter Pan!" she claimed. 

"Really?" Jubilee asked, smiling. She and Rory were within earshot of Wolverine; he'd insisted on keeping tabs on them during their outdoor trek, though it had seemed over-protective to Jubilee. She wondered if Wolverine was smiling over Rory's statement too. 

`Probably not,' she realized. 'He ain't smiling much these days.'

"I love him!" Rory exclaimed, throwing her arms open. Her mother and Sam frequently read Peter Pan stories to her.

"That's good, sweetie," Jubilee responded. She wondered whether to add words to the effect of Peter Pan being just make-believe and not real life, but she felt now was not the time.

****************

Alexander put the medical textbook aside after having spent several hours that day trying to catch up on his reading. He rubbed his eyes. In the quiet of his quarters, he then pulled off his clothing and settled into bed. He couldn't say that he loved his life aboard the Vengeance, but it was so much better than his time as a captive of FOH. Alexander had lived with the constant threat of torture or death as a prisoner of FOH. The Vengeance did not provide an ideal living situation, but a stable one in which he did not fear. And besides, he had the company of Moonstar and Storm. 

Storm….

Alexander allowed his thoughts to drift pleasantly. He recalled the Wind Rider's sparkling eyes. The determination in her face when he was able to observe her training on the holodeck. His thoughts turned more intimate, too. The gentle but insistent pull of erotic sensations started to lap at him.

The erotic feelings suddenly grew deeper and more intense. Alexander experienced them, soon to find himself rapidly drowning in them. He did not actively try to cease the sensations, but he began to grow alarmed at their intensity. Reaching a hand downwards, he saw that within the span of a few seconds, he had a raging, full erection. He then, for a few split seconds, struggled against this onslaught of sexual response. But the struggle was fruitless and he surrendered, allowing himself to wallow in it. It was almost as if his mind would not allow him to question his deep sexual desire.

The door to his room slid aside, and Psylocke entered, with cat-like grace and agility. Alexander's mind was so muddled, he could not form the words to question her for walking in unannounced.

"Want some company?" she asked smoothly, seating herself on the bed and reaching a hand to touch his hardness. She bent towards him, and her low cut neckline did its job; little of her generous bosom was left to the imagination.

"N-no," Alexander managed pathetically. Dimly, he realized what was happening. She had seized control of his mind. Part of Alexander was conscious of the invasion, but only a small part. Once again he attempted to muster the will to fight, but he could not climb out of the swimming pool of his desire; the heavy water weighed him down. 

Betsy smiled. She had no qualms with her actions, and had been justifying them to herself for days. She was not taking control of him the way she did FOH soldiers prior to mutilating and killing them. She had simply turned up the volume on Alexander's desire and suppressed his judgement. Psylocke increased his arousal now, making the desire dominate completely his consciousness. Even a person with resolve made of steel would not have been able to resist. 

Seeing that her capture of her prey was complete, she deftly removed her robe. Her body had been deprived for far, far too long. This situation was not ideal as Psylocke would generally prefer a partner who took more of the lead. She knew, from probing his mind, that Alexander normally was such a partner, however the lull she had put on his defenses weakened this aspect tonight. An unfortunate side effect which Betsy had known to expect. So this would have to do, and it was far better than no sex, as far as she was concerned. She glanced at his hardness, noting that it appeared more than adequate to the task.

*****************

Dani Moonstar bent over Marrow's body and worked her magic. It was not every day that Marrow allowed her to give a massage. Dani paid special attention to the bones that protruded from Marrow's back, rubbing them gently. A lot of them were bent and growing at unusual angles, from places which shouldn't have bone. Other areas of Marrow's back did not any bones protruding; Dani reached around the bones and touched the skin. 

"Oh Dani," Marrow whispered, enjoying the massage. She guessed that Dani's hands and arms might be tired, so she reached for Dani's hands and started kissing them. She kissed the fingers.

This was new. 'Finesse' was not a word that could be used to describe Marrow in bed. At Dani's questioning look, Marrow said, "I'm kissing your fingers 'cause they make me feel so good."

Dani fleetingly wondered whether Marrow had heard the line in a porn film. 'Well, maybe not,' Moonstar thought. The words did sound awkwardly sincere. Marrow slid a few fingers inside her mouth.

"Kiss me like that all over," Dani whispered, repositioning herself on her back.

Marrow complied. She no longer began their time in bed by diving towards Dani's breasts or pubic area. Although she tended to have to force herself to slow down, she did manage to enjoy the moment now and better explore her lover's body. She slinked downwards with the aim of kissing Dani's thighs.

"Ouch," Dani whispered.

"Sorry," Marrow apologized. A bone on the side of her body had lightly scored Dani. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dani said. She rubbed the spot on her body. It would be fine. It wasn't the only bruise she'd acquired from one of Marrow's wayward bones. Moonstar still could not fathom how anyone could simply get used to bones jutting through skin. She had wondered before what it was like for Wolverine to propel his claws through his own skin.

They continued their lovemaking. Marrow stroked Dani's exposed clit with her fingers, before reaching down to use her tongue. "You like this?" Marrow asked after giving Dani head for several moments. 

"Yeah. Stay on my clit for a bit longer," she encouraged. "I'm almost there." Thoughtfully, she added, "Is your tongue getting tired?"

"No," Marrow lied, happy to have a mission. Her tongue picked up where it left off, with added enthusiasm. She reached one hand up towards one of Moonstar's breasts and, minutes later, Dani reached an unfeigned orgasm.

"What about letting me reciprocate?" Moonstar panted. Some aspects of life aboard the Vengeance were not half bad, she decided, still tingling from the orgasm.

Marrow shook her head and looked downwards. She still had a protruding bone in the vicinity of her groin. She'd had to cut off part of it and file the base down --- the bone was no longer or wider than a finger, now. She couldn't explain why she relished penetrating Dani with it.

"Come on," Moonstar encouraged, following the direction of Marrow's gaze. She spread her legs. "It's okay."

"You sure this doesn't hurt?" Marrow asked. 

"Not at all." 

Dani, too, had wondered how and why Marrow enjoyed this particular act. As Marrow slowly entered, she guessed that perhaps Marrow's clitoris was close enough to skin in this position that the friction stimulated her. `Well, she does get some pleasure from having her bones touched—maybe that's it,' she speculated. Marrow was on top of her now, thrusting into her, covering her mouth with her own. Dani kissed her back, inserting her tongue inside Marrow's mouth. Marrow groaned her way to a climax.

Although Dani kept a journal, she hadn't written much lately and so she hadn't been as introspective as usual. She couldn't say when or why she began to enjoy sleeping with Marrow. `She should repulse me after that last killing spree—and after what she almost did to me – but she doesn't,' she wrote once. `She does seem sorry. And she's been so much….nicer, maybe. More normal at least. Or more like a lover should be.' Dani didn't attempt to write much more about it.

Later, the two women were curled up together, getting ready for sleep. "Marrow," Dani began, "which name do you like better? Illusion or Oasis?"

"Is this for your code name?" Since Moonstar had been training with dedication, she'd told several of her crewmates that she wanted a code name. She liked being called Moonstar, but that was her family name, not truly a code name. Dani had said that when she returned to the X-men, she wanted her powers in top form and a new code name to accompany them.

The thought of Dani returning to the X-men left a chilly feeling in Marrow's gut. She tried to chase it away. After all, it was nice that Dani sought her opinion on the code name.

"Yeah. I think 'Illusion' is too hard to say, though it's a pretty word. Pretty sounds." She paused and then said, "Illusion," just speaking the word, enjoying the way it formed around her lips. The gentle opening "il" sound, swallowed by the alluring "lu" sound, which was followed by the powerful and exotic "zh" sound. Dani pronounced the last syllable more along the lines of "zhun" rather than making a "shun" sound. "I **love** the word Oasis, too." She repeated that word as well.

"Oasis's a cool word," Marrow said. She slept on her stomach, with her head turned towards one side. Sleeping on her back was not an option. "But it doesn't describe what you do."

"I know," Moonstar conceded. "I still like it though."

"What about…Mirage?" Marrow suggested.

Dani loved it. _Mirage. _It illuminated her mutant capabilities, and the word had a mystique to it. It conjured up ancient peoples living in desert cities with powerful magicians. "My people would love this name," she breathed. "It is fitting for a Navajo woman." Dani also liked the way this word felt to her ears, the soft "mir" blended together with the long "a" and then the "zh" sound again.

Marrow liked the name _Mirage _too. It sounded good with her own name. Marrow and Mirage. M&M, like the sweet candy back on earth. Marrow resolved to replicate some and give them to her lover.

Marrow's mind skipped back to a comment Dani – no, _Mirage _– had made. She asked her to tell more about her background, about what it was like growing up on a Navajo reservation. "Like, what does it mean to you? You know, what's it mean to you as a person and did it make you the way you are? What is a Navajo, anyway?"

Dani, now reborn Mirage, opened her mouth and words spilled forth like a cool waterfall.

****************

The next day, Dani had lunch with Storm and Alexander. "So," she was saying, "please try to call me Mirage from now on."

"It's a deal," Alexander said, with a smile. 

"I will certainly try," Storm promised. "Though habits die hard, and I've only known you as Dani Moonstar." She added, "Mirage is quite a remarkable name. For a remarkable woman."

Dani blushed at the compliment. She finished eating early, so that she could head to the gym and work on sharpening her powers. She'd been trying to convince Roula to agree on allowing her mind to be used for Mirage's training. Obtaining a willing victim for practice was not easy.

Storm and Alexander were now alone in the mess hall. They talked off-handedly about nothing in particular, though Storm noted Alexander was more tight-lipped than usual.

"You spoke with Psylocke about what she did to you, right?" Alexander asked Storm, uncharacteristically breaking away from his reticence. "About the time she knocked you out," he added, as if any clarification had been needed.

"Yes." Storm had spoken with Psylocke several days ago. She had distinct memories of telling Dani and Alexander about it. 

"How did it go?" 

Storm replayed the scene in her mind before replying. "I think Psylocke was somewhat embarrassed at what she had done when I made her realize that there was no reason for it. She broke off her eye contact with me. Of course she would never offer an apology. She promised not to interfere again." 

"So she did seem to regret what she did?" he asked.

"In a way, I think yes. I don't think remorse is an emotion she's comfortable with though." 

At Alexander's behest, Storm then relayed as many of the details as she could remember regarding the encounter. He listened. Mortified at his encounter with Psylocke, he would never tell anyone else what she had done to him. But Alexander knew he had to ready himself for a confrontation with her; he did not want that evening to be repeated. 

When Storm was done recounting the story, he promptly changed the subject. "Have you seen Roula or Thyme a lot lately?"

"No," Storm replied. "I wish I had." Frustrated at her lack of progress, she refrained from saying more. She still wanted to communicate with them, having the eventual goal of convincing them to change the violent ways of the Pirates. Roula had avoided Storm since their meeting with the Conqueror. Thyme opened up more, but nothing Storm said would convince her that enacting revenge and murder on FOH troops was immoral. And Dani didn't seem to care that much either, especially now that things with Marrow seemed better than they had been. Storm hoped that they would not encounter any more FOH vessels.

***************

The best thing we ever did was for Kurt to use his teleportation to take us to a better area on the planet for outdoor "summer fun."

We had been stranded, now, for two and a half months. I think we were all starting to get sick of being inside the starship. And although it had warmed up some outside, it was still only in the 20's and 30's – not getting up to the warmth Hank had forecasted. It was tough for all of us, especially the kids.

So Jean-Paul carried Kurt one day and they went on their own expedition. They found a place that would've taken us weeks to arrive at, if we'd been on foot. The temperature was warm enough that we could be comfortable outdoors with a light jacket and maybe gloves. It felt like a heat wave compared to the freezing place at which we'd been staying. It was a grassy area with a lake and some lush trees bearing brown and green leaves. Jean Grey confirmed that no indigenous people were within the area, and Wolverine didn't sniff any predatory animals. So Kurt teleported people and equipment, with Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie also using their hyper speed to fly equipment back and forth. It wasn't quite as scenic as the Paradise Planet or An'zhina but, again, it was fairly picturesque compared to what we'd been used to.

Pretty soon we had a few tents set up, a barbecue fired up (the barbecue we had brought from An'zhina; it was clean-burning so as not to pollute the air on this planet), and a volleyball net set up. Freedom also had a canoe on board; it had belonged to FOH. We inspected it, pronounced it fit, and small groups went canoeing down the lake. The hiking was also good, though we had to be careful – no trails existed and we did not want to spoil the land. 

I went hiking a few times. Like I said, it was ok but the scenery was nothing compared to some other places we've been to. You see a few mousy trees, you've seen them all. This was a far cry from foliage on An'zhina which ran the gamut of colors, including lavender and turquoise. In this place, flowers were few and far between, and even they were mostly shades of brown.

A few times we went up a hill and I made an ice slide for people (mostly the kids) to enjoy sliding down. The slide wouldn't harm the ecosystem, as it would simply melt. We'd hold the kids in our laps and slide down. The kids loved it; the adults didn't care for freezing cold ice on their butts, so I was usually the one taking the kids down the slide.

Generally, we didn't sleep at "our little campsite"; we returned to the ship when darkness fell after having spent most of the day there. (Though Wolverine insisted on spending several nights there, much to most people's consternation. I know Jean telepathically checked in with him when he did so.) It was still pretty cold during the night. We had set tents up there, but they were mostly for relief from the sun during the day, or to take cover when it suddenly rained.

Rain did occur sporadically and usually without a lot of warning. I remember once jogging back from a hike with Jubilee, Rory, and Sam, and crowding our damp selves into one of the tents.

Another day I was with a group that took all three kids on a short hike. We found a grove with a few trees standing in a circle. The site was unremarkable except that three of the trees had these small hollows at their bases. Rory immediately scampered over to one and curled up inside of it. A few times later, the kids were taken to this grove and found little gifts that we had beforehand placed inside the trees' hollows. The kids' eyes were wide with surprise and happiness the first time this happened, which brightened all of our days.

So overall the place itself wasn't majestic in appearance, but it was still a wonderful change from being inside the starship. I have many fun memories of playing other games with the kids while the sun shone overhead, or napping under the shade of a tree while listening to eerie bird calls. I was coaxed into several volleyball games where no one cared that my serves were pathetic (considering how competitive we are in the Danger Room, we're pretty relaxed when it comes to games like these.) And I enjoyed several canoe trips, including one where Jeanne-Marie and I sat back and let Jean-Paul do most of the rowing. He didn't seem to mind. We also had fun trips where the twins used their hyper speed at rowing and made the canoe just zoom around the lake. My heart sped.

Every now and then, you could almost make believe you were on earth until you saw some strange reminders letting you know you were on an alien planet. You'd see an oddly shaped bush resembling nothing on earth. Or you'd lean back and put her hand in the grass or the soil, and the texture was unlike any grass or dirt you'd touched before. As a gardener, I wanted to understand their vegetation and learn about how things grew here. But I'm also a lazy slacker, and I even kinda tuned Hank out when he started to theorize about it one day as we sat under a shady tree. I know, I'm pathetic.

*****************

Oh. There was one evening that wasn't quite so fun. We were sitting around a circular lawn table, playing one of the board games. It was Jean-Paul, Rogue, Gambit, Sam, Jubilee, Hector, and myself. The table was too small for so many people, and we were really packed around it, like sardines. As sometimes happened during our days outdoors, a little giddy and wacky atmosphere fell over the table. We were all so happy to be outside; a lot of giggling and joking was taking place. A few naughty jokes were told, jokes that probably would not have been uttered had Cyke or Kurt, for instance, been around.

I sat between Jean-Paul and Gambit. Jean-Paul had been resting a hand on my thigh. Suddenly I felt the hand disappear. I looked up, and saw Jean-Paul looking at Gambit and smiling. "Ooops," he laughed. "I put my hand on the wrong thigh. Oh, I'm so sorry, Gambit!"

Gambit smiled, going along with the joke (Jean-Paul obviously did it intentionally, and wasn't trying to hide that – that was part of the joke). Gambit said something polite and witty, and Jean-Paul's hand went back to my thigh. I thought about bringing it up with Jean-Paul later, because it did kinda bother me, but I decided that you have to let some things go and I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. So I made myself forget about it.

*****************

Gambit enjoyed Northstar's attraction. Breaking his vows to Rogue was unthinkable—and he wouldn't hurt Bobby that way either – but it was exciting and validating to be wanted. 

Besides, none of the other women on the team were attracted to him that way. Gambit had insecurities about losing his touch. Jean, Jubilee, Jeanne-Marie – none of them salivated over him, which Gambit found perplexing and almost a bit of an affront. So Northstar's attentions were not unwelcome, though they would never be reciprocated.

*****************

Wolverine sat outside one day, his back resting against a tree. This day was unusually warm and, having grown used to colder temperatures, he found himself starting to perspire. He reached for his drink to take a swig and disappointedly discovered that the beverage was tepid.

"Hey, Bobby," he called. He gestured for him to come over.

Bobby got up from the board game he'd been playing. Kurt had teleported a picnic table and chairs to their site, and Wolverine noted that the X-men were still playing the same games as before; they had only moved them outdoors.

"Would ya?" Wolverine asked, handing him the canteen.

"With pleasure," Bobby said, with a million-dollar smile. He worked his magic on the canteen, cooling the contents.

"Thanks." 

Bobby turned back towards the game. Wolverine sniffed the air, picking up the scent of Northstar's fresh ejaculation. It was maybe a few hours old and had, of course, been washed off. But Wolverine's nose always picked up remnants.

Jubilee, Jean, and Rogue all had similar residues from their respective lovers. Over the years, Wolverine had gotten good at ignoring such scents, but lately he could not. His body cried out for its own release. Being outside with females would bring these feelings on for Wolverine, sure as summer follows spring.

He sat back and looked. Jean sat not too far away, on a blanket as she cooed to Christopher. The boy had woken up from a nap and sounded very fussy. Wolverine noted Jean's tight shirt straining across her chest, outlining her luscious breasts. He'd gotten lazy about chasing such observances away, even as he knew Jean had the ability to pick up on them.

Rogue sat at one of the ends of the table, playing the same board game as Bobby. Her shorts allowed ample view of her shapely thighs. They were slightly less lean than Storm's, possessing somewhat more rounded flesh. No less muscular than Storm's, though shorter.

He tried to stop that line of thought. Rogue was a friend, one he'd never truly desired. Today she looked exceptionally attractive, but he'd been deprived of sex so long that anything female looked tantalizing to him. Wolverine would definitely not allow himself to pay similar attention to Jubilee, despite the fact that she, too, was a grown woman and an attractive one at that. 

So he averted his eyes from Jubilee, instead turning his attention to Jeanne-Marie. She was playing a spirited volleyball match with Northstar, Cyclops, Sam, and Hector. He admired the strength with which she hit the ball, and the energy with which she pursued it. But given the state his mind was in, those thoughts were very quickly replaced with others. The bounce of her breasts, which did not appear tightly restrained. Her shirt occasionally rode up, revealing her abdomen. Jeanne-Marie generally did not favor tight clothing, but today her shorts cleaved to her bottom. It was a waste that she'd sworn off men, that her desire was stymied. She'd been such a tart during most of her Alpha Flight days. Wolverine had never slept with her, but she had made overtures. Those days in Alpha Flight felt like a lifetime ago. He returned to watching her body, visualizing how nice it would be to have her laying on her back on one of the blankets here, gently working her shorts down. Or perhaps using his claws to tear her shorts off as he listened to her willing gasp of excitement.

Enough, Wolverine told himself. They were all off-limits and none of them was the woman he adored. Even if one of the four women on this mission had been willing, he would have turned her down, never wanting to hurt Storm again. Taking the risk of ruining their relationship was not an option.

His brain understood the need to cease his cravings, but his body could not. The pleasurable-yet-slightly painful sensations stirred in the area of his crotch. Time to return to his room, he decided, and again attend to a physical need. It was a pale imitation, never as satisfying as the real thing.

"Where's Nightcrawler?" he asked Jean, as he stood up and gathered his items. "He out hiking?"

"He returned to the ship," Jean replied. "You can call him and come get you." 

"I'll take you back." The voice belonged to Jeanne-Marie. Apparently their match had finished up. Jeanne-Marie looked victorious.

"Okay." 

When Nightcrawler was not available, the Alphan twins were one's only means to return to the starship. The journey would take days by foot or air for those not gifted with super-speed or teleportation.

Jeanne-Marie scooped Wolverine in her arms, and they began the trip back to Freedom. He sniffed the air during their rapid and brief journey back to Freedom. Jeanne-Marie's scent reached his nostrils. She did not particularly desire him, though she wasn't completely devoid of sexual desire either.

******************

Rogue and Gambit picnicked outside one late afternoon, enjoying a postponed lunch. They didn't have too much time left to finish their meal as the sunlight started to fade already. Several unwanted visitors accompanied them on their picnic; warmer weather had brought a resurgence of insects. Although they were not swarming, they were present. Hank devised a spray that would protect the X-men from insects without harming the planet's ecosystems. It usually seemed to work.

Gambit reach for the bottle and sprayed himself with more of the repellant. "Want some?" he asked Rogue.

"Thanks, Sugar." She took the bottle and lightly dusted her exposed forearms. They were the only area of her body, aside from hands, face, and neck that were bare. Rogue would have preferred warmer weather and thus more abbreviated clothing, but chilly gusts still circulated in the air. 

"You packed a nice lunch, chere."

"Thanks, Remy." She smiled and added, flippantly, "Took me all of three minutes. I replicated a few things and threw 'em in the basket."

"And it is my pleasure to share it with you, amour," he said, reaching for one of her hands and kissing it.

Rogue's heart fluttered. "Remy, how is it that after all these years, you still can make me feel like how I was when I first met you?" There were so many times when he would give her a look or say a few certain words, and Rogue would be transported back to the strong-willed, sass-talking former villainess with a wall of steel surrounding her. She had tried to hide – to herself and others—how much the mysterious, sweet-talking Cajun made her melt inside. She had not been able to hide it for too long.

"It is 'cause you still have dat same affect on me," he said, his voice smooth as honey.

And though his voice may have been smooth, she knew he sincerely meant the words too. His words touched a nerve. "Hey, Remy," she began quietly, "I wanna say I'm sorry. I ain't been such a good wife lately."

"Chere," he began, in the tone which Rogue knew meant he didn't agree with her.

"No, no, really, Remy. I ain't been. I been moody and all pissy." She spoke the truth. Some days she withdrew from the others and even from Remy; other days, her countenance seemed normal. Her sexual desire had ebbed and flowed since the miscarriage as well. She went for longer stretches of time without desire than ever before. Remy found that disconcerting, though he reminded himself to be patient.

None of this was easy on him. "Dat's pretty normal for what we been 'drough. An' I been moody too," he admitted.

"Yeah, but you don't show it the way I do." Rogue knew that her bad moods were a loud Southern thunderstorm. Remy's, on the other hand, were the humid quietness before the storm, a steady and subtle rumbling. His tendency was still to bottle it all up. "An' I worry 'bout that too."

"I'm doin' okay chere. You know dat. Some days better den others but I be alright." He reached for her hand and held it. "But chere, I don't wanna hear you say stuff like you ain't bein' a good wife. You know dat you are. You know dat I love you more den anyt'in."

He pulled her into a kiss. They pressed their lips together gently and softly. Rogue melted into his arms as he slowly inserted part of his tongue within her mouth.

"Remy," she began, when she their kiss ebbed. "I been thinkin' 'bout somethin' else too. Been thinkin' that maybe I don't wanna try again."

"You mean not try to have anot'er baby?" he asked.

"Yeah. I know, seems I change my mind every day now. But now I think I don't wanna try to have another one. Ever."

Rogue had brought the topic up a few times before, sometimes saying that she wanted to try again in a few weeks or months, other times saying she did not wish to try again. She had not spoken about wanting to attempt to get pregnant for a long time now. And today she sounded resolute.

"How would that sit with you, swamp rat? If we don't ever have kids?"

"I told you, chere. I t'ink I can go for whatever you want. I jus' want you to be sure." Since he had been able to openly express his hesitations about becoming a parent, Remy had felt more comfortable saying he would go along with what Rogue wanted. He could live with it if they never had children. Most of the time he felt that he probably would even prefer it that way. He could also live with it if they decided to try again, though his fears of another miscarriage – and another Rogue breakdown – simmered. Her decision to not have children was extremely comforting. 

"Well, I been feelin' sure lately. Maybe bein' parents ain't in the cards for us." She paused. "Remy, you sure you're jus' gonna be ok with whatever I want?"

"I told you, chere. I mean it. If you want to try again, I would do dat. If you didn't want to try again, then I can be happy wit' dat too. You know dat I jus' want your love."

Rogue laughed. "You had that since the day you met me, Swamp Rat, and you know it."

The couple soon decided to return to Freedom. Gambit reached for the communicator, but it sounded before either of them pressed a button; someone was trying to reach them. 

"It's Nightcrawler. Can you come to the ship right away? We have a situation."

Kurt's voice conveyed concern. Rogue and Gambit looked at each other. "Of course," he said.

*******************

Nightcrawler teleported Rogue and Gambit to the conference room adjacent to the bridge, where they found most of the others finding their way to seats. 

"What's going on?" Bobby asked.

"It's the Cetians," Jean said. "I can sense that they are on their way here." At Jean's words, the room fell silent with dread. 

"Our long-range sensors – those that are still operational – confirm that," Hank added. "A vessel similar to those Cetian vessels we encountered before is on its way here."

"Are dey comin' for us?" Gambit asked. He was instantly taken back to the black soot of the mines, its mess all over his hands and face. Other random memories careened through his mind -- his eyes starving for sunlight, the back-breaking work, the darkness of the mines filled with exhausted men speaking in strange tongues. Sleeping on a tattered sleeping bag over which various bugs wandered freely.

"I don't know if they even sense that we're here," Jean said. "Us specifically, I mean." A few heads turned as Jubilee, Cannonball, and a loudly protesting Rory ushered each other into the conference room. Gambit turned and saw Charlotte, sitting next to her mother with a look of consternation on her face. "But they know that there are other…humanoids on this planet. From their previous visits here."

"The bastards had slaves from all over the galaxy," Wolverine mumbled.

"Jean, we need details," Cyclops said, sounding much more like the commanding team leader than Jean's loving husband. "Tell us everything you're able to sense. How far away they are, how many ships they have, their weapons."

"During our last battle with 'em, their firepower was comparable to ours," Rogue interjected. "They weren't easy to defeat but they weren't too tough either." 

Rogue remembered those days, speeding towards Cetian space so that the X-men could free Gambit, Bobby, and Wolverine. Once she had learned that Gambit was alive, the days had passed at an agonizingly slow pace even as the X-men had warped towards the Cetians. Rogue remembered training with an unmatched fervor. She had wanted to jump out of her skin. She remembered Storm being such a major source of strength and serenity, and the memory made Storm's absence suddenly all the more unbearable.

Gambit looked at Rogue and reached for her hand, holding it tight. He didn't need to whisper anything to her; he had shared her agony during the time he was held captive. He missed Storm too. The remnants of their mind-link allowed him to pick up on those thoughts of hers.

"They couldn't detect our cloak either," Nightcrawler added.

"But who knows what sort of advances they've made since then," Cyclops said impatiently, looking at Jean and wishing the others would be quiet. Jean was their best and only hope at getting inside the Cetians's minds and learning how much of a threat they truly posed. 

Jean, however, had been on An'zhina during the X-men's encounter with the Cetians. "Was the Professor able to read their minds?" she asked. She had, of course, been "debriefed" on the mission when the X-men had returned to An'zhina and Jean knew she must've discussed it with Charles at one point but she truly didn't remember, having been so thrilled to be reunited with Scott. 

"He—he didn't ever mention it," Rogue said. "I remember when the Professor told us that Remy and Wolverine and Bobby were alive. But he never said nothin' 'bout readin' the Cetians."

Cyclops spoke, "I remember talking about it with him at one point. He tried to read their minds a few times but said they were a lot harder to penetrate than human minds."

"Ah, that's right!" Jean said. "I remember discussing it with him when he returned. He – " she stopped at the gravity of her words, "—he didn't have much luck reading their minds."

"Maybe he just didn't try as much," Bobby offered.

"We were all pretty hell-bent on gettin' you guys back," Rogue remembered. "I can't believe he wouldn't try to read their minds more. But I was so busy trainin' in the Danger Room, I scarcely remember."

"What happened back then don't matter," Wolverine said. "What matters is whether Jean can read their minds now."

"And not only that, but whether she can influence and control them too," Cyclops added. 

Everyone in the room turned their attention towards Jean. She closed her eyes. "I sense their approach. Of course. But I….I am running into trouble getting any more detail than that." She paused, seemingly resuming her efforts at reading their minds. She shook her head. "Their brains are different than humans'."

"Our cloak is up, right?" Bobby asked.

"Yes," Cyclops said, disturbed by Jean's words. 

"But we must be mindful of what Cyclops stated earlier," Hank warned. "There is the possibility that they have improved their technology and can now sense our cloak."

"We can't fall back on the cloak. We have to be ready for battle."

"We're gonna redouble our trainin'," Rogue said.

The X-men set about checking the status of their weaponry, examining what had been damaged in the asteroid collision and what hadn't.

***************

All of a sudden, I was back inside a muggy, hellish prison. Surrounded by rocks emanating a reddish glow, my muscles aching, I was a slave once more in the Cetian mines. A jolt of pain ripped through my bones as the guard used the collar device on me to force me to bend to his will.

Moments later, Jean-Paul was hugging me. My breathing was rapid and pained as I struggled to realize the image had been only a nightmare.

"There, there amour," he whispered. He stroked my hair.

"My god it was awful," I muttered, though the voice didn't feel like mine. The words were slow and my mind still buzzed with mind-numbing images of the monotonous slavery conditions of the mines. 

"You're safe here," he whispered. "You're safe. We'll be alright."

I remained in his embrace, not wanting to rise from his arms for a second. I needed the physicality of his arms around me because I was not convinced by his words. "But we're not safe," I said. "They're coming."

Jean-Paul tried to reassure me, but his words felt hollow. Who knew if the cloak would be detected? Who knew if we could fight them? Jean's telepathic read of them was shaky at best.

"We just have to trust," Jean-Paul said. "Trust that we can fight them off."

"If we can't, no one's going to save us this time," I said. 

Jean-Paul continued to stroke my hair. "Let us talk and think of happier things, amour." One of his hands started to reach lower.

I reached for his hand and stopped it. "Sorry," I said. "I'm just not in the mood right now."

"That's okay." He kissed me a few times, but delicately now and without any hint of desiring more.

We stayed up and talked for a bit longer before deciding to try to resume sleeping. I fluffed my pillow back the way I liked it. My heart rate was back at a normal pace and I felt drowsy again.

"I understand why you did it."

"What?" I asked Jean-Paul. "You understand what?"

"Why you slept with that guy in the mines. I can see why you did it. I forgave you already, you know, but now I really understand." 

At first his words were reassuring. But then I pondered them more. I didn't want to start a fight. And I needed Jean-Paul's support now, so I didn't say anything more other than a one- or two-syllable response. But the following day, his words echoed in my mind. Why the hell would he bring it up and bring it up **now**? The incident was years ago, it took place before he and I ever got serious anyway, and we hadn't talked about it once since he had forgiven me so long ago. So why was he saying now that he understood why I did it? Once again, I felt fear overtake me, but this time it wasn't the Cetians or their mines causing it.

******************

Psylocke now left Alexander alone. She made two more unauthorized entries into his mind – and his bed --- before she decided to cease. It was boring. While under her control, he was too docile, too predictable. Psylocke knew what he would do because she controlled it. Under normal circumstances --- as she knew from reading his memories -- he was quite a different lover. But she wasn't going to get what she wanted from him so she backed off.

Alexander had to fight to hide his disgust for Psylocke. She was no better than the FOH soldiers she hunted. He felt he could not release his rage against her directly, so he trained with Storm and Dani – no, _Mirage _– harder than ever. He didn't know that Psylocke never intended to violate him again, but if she did, he planned to take vengeance.

****************

Sam Guthrie had two bottles of alcohol left from An'zhina. He decided to break them out for a party one evening. The X-men had been undergoing enough stress lately – what better time to use it? He himself had no shortage of duress in his life, but he'd never liked to drink alone. The party would have to take place inside Freedom. Even though the Cetians were still -- to the best of the X-men's knowledge -- nowhere near the planet, no one ventured outside since Jean's disturbing announcement of the Cetians' arrival.

Sam asked Jubilee whom to invite to their shindig. She suggested (thinking back to a previous party) Bobby, Northstar, Jeanne-Marie, Rogue and Gambit. Sam wanted Hector on the guest list as well. "We ain't got enough booze for all these people though," he worried. Sam did not want to be a bad host.

As luck would have it, Rogue and Gambit declined. They didn't offer an explanation but Jubilee worried that they might be taking the risk of venturing outside – sensors showed that tonight was the warmest evening since the X-men had arrived. 

"They can take care of themselves, hon," Sam said. "'Sides, it means there's more of this stuff to go around!"

With Rory asleep in the room adjacent to Sam's and Jubilee's, the party began. It did not consist of much more than CDs playing in the background as the group ate their dinner and enjoyed their alcohol. A half-hearted attempt was made to play strip poker (Sam wondering whether he should've felt awkward at doing so with two gay men – and one of the guys's sister --- in the room, but oddly he did not.) No one felt like removing anything beyond their undergarments though, and therefore the stripping portion of the game stopped when Jubilee, sitting in bra and panties, came in last at another round which would've required her to remove another garment. Tipsy, she shook her head no. Hector thanked his lucky stars that his fortune had held out and he'd retained more of his clothing than anyone. The group continued playing for a while longer, without anyone removing more clothes.

Later in the evening, Jubilee fell drowsy and left for the adjacent room to sleep in the bed next to her daughter. Jeanne-Marie, not wanting others to follow Jubilee's lead and the party to end so soon, later got an idea on how to enliven things. "Let's talk about the first time we had sex!"

Sam noticed he was seeing a side of Jeanne-Marie to which he'd never before been exposed. (Well, she is fairly drunk, he told himself.) He also liked the glances at her full bosom he'd been able to take when she'd been reduced to bra and slacks, but now that their poker game was over, she'd put on her shirt again.

"Well, it's your idea --- you start!" Bobby said, laughing. He hoped Jeanne-Marie would start, and then Bobby himself would be willing to follow.

Hector looked at Bobby's flushed cheeks, and then glanced at Sam. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this one. He'd had sex only once, and when he'd told Sam about it, he had unsurprisingly not been believed. Hector had no desire to tarnish Storm's reputation or end up on Wolverine's bad side by telling others about the incident, but he didn't want to lie and say that he was a virgin either. Hector had been sitting in a slumped position. He hoped maybe the stories would take a long time, and he could gradually appear to be losing consciousness and pass as asleep. 

"Let's draw cards to see who starts," Jeanne-Marie said coyly.

"Ah, she starts it up but she can't finish it," Jean-Paul teased. 

"I got a better idea!" a drunk Bobby said. "How about I put on a drag show!"

Sam decided he had to wake Jubilee up for this, and Jubilee came to be thankful for that. Bobby, clad in a stretchy white nightgown of Jeanne-Marie's, his make-up also done by Jeanne-Marie and his feet crammed into the pair of heels that Jubilee had tried to wear to Rogue and Gambit's wedding, sang and danced to one of the pop songs on the CD. Sam laughed so hard his sides ached. Hector felt tears rolling down his face at the spectacle. Bobby, never having seriously done drag before, tripped several times until he threw the shoes across the room. He stumbled over the lyrics but added several dance moves, shaking his hips and exaggerating his movements accordingly. At a crescendo of the music, he jumped up onto the bed and finished most of the song from there. He ended by stripping off the nightgown and draping it around Sam.

"That's the ugliest woman I've ever seen," Jeanne-Marie laughed during the performance. "Though her dress is lovely." She surveyed the work she'd done on Bobby's face. The blue eyeliner and mascara had been applied thickly, but the multiple colors on and above his eyelids didn't create the effect she'd hoped for. She liked the red lipstick on him and the swirls of red blush.

"She'd be cuter with longer hair," Hector added. They lacked a wig to complete Bobby's look.

Jubilee nudged Sam when Bobby was three lines into the song, "Should I wake Rory for this?"

"Sure. When's she ever gonna see anything like this again?"

Rory, groggy at first, soon laughed with delight at Uncle Bobby's performance. She danced, mimicking his movements. Jubilee realized she was never going to get her daughter back to sleep, but was too inebriated to care.

"I'm taking tips," Bobby advertised, holding out his hands, when the music was complete.

"How about an encore?" Hector asked.

"I could be persuaded, cutie," Bobby cooed, as he seated himself on Hector's lap. They both fell over.

The party diminished soon after the group ran out of alcohol. There were half-hearted attempts at dancing, but too many people kept colliding in the small room. After a while, only the toddler Rory wanted to keep the party going.

**************

After the party, Jean-Paul giggled as he handed Bobby a washcloth. The men were now inside their own room. Bobby scrubbed his face clean. "I had no idea you wanted to do drag," Northstar said.

"Neither did I," Bobby said, slurring each word. Bobby let himself fall back onto the bed.

"So tell me about the first time you had sex," Bobby said, once his lover had joined him in the bed. He wrapped his arms and legs around Northstar. He'd been willing to talk about the topic that Jeanne-Marie had raised, but no one at the party had taken the bait.

"I told you already," Jean-Paul smiled.

"You did? I don't remember. My brain's not in the best shape right now anyway," he added.

So Jean-Paul told the story, and as soon as he did, Bobby remembered it. Jean-Paul had been thirteen or fourteen, he couldn't recall. He was living and working in the circus. An older man, an acrobat, had befriended him. ("At the time, he seemed so old to me, like in his forties or perhaps early fifties. I think now that he was, at most, in his late thirties. Teenagers always think that anyone older than 30 is ancient.") During a four-day run at the acrobat's home city, Jean-Paul was invited to the older man's winter digs, a small apartment, "so that he could show me some training tips." Jean-Paul was given permission to spend a few days with him. "We worked out that first day, lifting weights and such. When we were done, he suggested we shower. By then, I knew what the deal was. And I was willing." 

Bobby smiled, remembering that Jean-Paul had said this was a good experience for him and thinking perhaps it was why he often enjoyed starting their own lovemaking in the shower after a strenuous Danger Room session. He wished he could see a picture of what Jean-Paul looked like as a teenager. He would've liked to have been a fly on the wall watching him and the acrobat.

"I learned a lot from him, though I cannot remember his name. It was wonderful. When we got back to the circus, I felt so different inside. And I was more brave. I learned to spot others like us. I did not feel any shame."

Bobby kissed Northstar, glad that his lover's first time had been so positive. Bobby's head felt clearer now and Jean-Paul started to caress his body in a more inviting manner. Bobby didn't protest. He knew he'd had too much to drink but was still alert and wanting what Jean-Paul was after; if he hadn't, he wouldn't have brought up the topic of first sexual encounters. 

Bobby wished his own first time had been better. As a teenager, he would make his way to the nearest large city and find the gay bars. Too young to go inside and without the means to procure a fake ID, he would hang around outside, skillfully evading the occasional cop. It was there that anonymous men who reeked of alcohol and cigarettes would take him to their cars or their apartments or hotel rooms or just outside in the darkness of the night and have sex with him. Some were good lovers, some weren't. Most spoke little during or after the guilt-ridden encounters. One was violent and forced Bobby, even after he'd told him to stop. He couldn't say he had any magnificent experiences in those early years; there had been no earth-shattering emotional bonding or heart-stopping lovemaking. The encounters had only served to scratch a maddening itch while simultaneously increasing Bobby's shame.

Those empty years were over now and Bobby delighted in the present. Jean-Paul was on top of him now, kissing him fervently. He pinned Bobby's arms back and again brought his mouth down on Bobby's, lapping at Bobby's tongue.

Bobby turned his face to the side. "A little slower," he whispered.

Jean-Paul forced himself to approach his lover more gently, but not too much so. He took the time to nibble on earlobes and neck, and kiss Bobby again, this time with more subtlety. He released one of Bobby's arms, and Bobby brought his hand around to caress Jean-Paul's shoulder. "I like your touch, amour," he breathed, looking into Bobby's brown eyes.

Bobby smiled languidly.

Still, it was not to be a slow lovemaking session that night. Jean-Paul sat back on his heels and tugged at both Bobby's steadily hardening cock and his own. Satisfied at seeing Bobby's arousal, he moved forward on the bed and brought himself above Bobby's mouth. Bobby tilted his head upwards to be able to lick at the tip of the pulsing rod he was presented with. Jean-Paul changed his angle and was able to lower a bit of himself inside the wet cavern of Bobby's willing mouth. Bobby's tongue and lips were skillful. Jean-Paul thrust a few times inside Bobby's mouth before abruptly changing position. 

He swung himself around so that his mouth was now near Bobby's penis. Licking and sucking on it, he listened to Bobby's moans and tried to gage when Bobby might be ready. Bobby tried to grab a hold of Northstar's lower body and reach his cock, which was jerking with anticipation. But they never had much luck in attaining the "69" position, so Bobby settled for pulling on it with a hand. And he was nearly overwhelmed at what he felt from Jean-Paul's mouth. Bobby wanted to hold off on coming; he preferred coming after penetration, so he had to will himself to not get too aroused until Northstar was ready.

When Jean-Paul released him to take a breather, Bobby reached towards the nightstand and procured the bottle of lube. He handed it to Northstar with a glint in his eye. Jean-Paul returned the glint with a fair amount of animal lust thrown in. "Pull your knees to your chest, amour."

Bobby did as told, and Jean-Paul prepared him and prepared himself. He showed more restraint, now, as he entered his lover slowly and carefully. Northstar leaned in closer to reach, once again, for Bobby's lips and kiss them with fervor. 

Bobby lay back, his body and mind pleasantly relaxed from a combination of the alcohol and his lover's touches. His skin felt on fire as each sensation danced across his body. He felt Northstar penetrating him slowly at first, and then with more speed later. They looked into each other's eyes during several long and slow strokes. When his legs were getting too tired, he gave Jean-Paul the signal and they switched into a more comfortable, standard position with Bobby face down on the bed. His pert rear jutted up in anticipation.

Northstar slowly thrust, as he nibbled on one of Bobby's ears. Bobby moaned, completely focussed on the joyousness he felt – his body completely vulnerable and open to the man he loved and who loved him. Northstar's whispered words in French which told of how much he loved him, how much pleasure he was receiving.

"Can I go really fast now?" Northstar asked after a while. 

Bobby permitted it, and Northstar broke away to apply extra lube. Every now and then, Northstar wanted to use his hyper speed in the bedroom. He reinserted himself and worked up speed, gripping Bobby's hips. His thrusts became rapid, then frantic, and then moved at an inhuman speed. To Bobby, it felt as if he were being completely filled in all places, all at once and very intensely. He liked it, if prepared and in the right mood. Northstar adored it, his sexual delight boiling. "Mon dieu!" Northstar cried out with his orgasm.

Later, Bobby reached an exuberant and intense climax by jerking off onto his lover's chest. Northstar wiped the sweat off his brow with a towel. He absentmindedly dabbed at his lover's cum with a finger.

"Love you," he whispered reaching up to kiss Bobby.

"Even though I'm a lousy singer?" Bobby asked. He had needed the release of this evening, both the fun with the group and the sex with his lover. 

"The singing wasn't so bad but I don't know about that dancing, amour."

"It was the heels."

*****************

The next morning, the X-men assembled in the mess hall for breakfast. 

"Uncle Bobby sing and dance!" Rory exuberantly told those at her table. "Last night."

"He did?" Rogue asked, a bemused look on her face. She exchanged a look with Gambit, and they looked at Bobby. Bobby smiled.

"He sure did!" Jubilee responded.

"He wear pretty dress too!" Rory added. "And make-up!"

Gambit playfully raised an eyebrow at Bobby. Bobby shrugged and looked at those sitting at the table, blushing. "No wig though," Bobby mentioned, wishing he could think of something wittier.

He examined the room nervously and felt relief at noticing that Jean and Scott were not within earshot. Wolverine, however, had a half-grin on his face as he mumbled, "Sounds like we missed some party."

****************

****

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's Note –

I wanted to let everyone know that The Heavens Open – and thus this entire trilogy – is edging towards the finish line. I predict three or four more chapters before the end. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. I hope you will like what I have in store. Please send any feedback to me at stormkpr@usa.net


	24. Chapter 24

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

****************

The next several days were tense for us. (Though the party in Jubes's and Sam's room had been a most welcome diversion.) But aside from fun stuff like that, I remember longer hours than normal spent training, followed by briefings from Cyclops. We continued our approach of organized team training sessions, with everyone fighting together against our simulated opponents. 

We checked our sensors regularly, of course, to try to get a sense of the Cetian starship's approach and how much time we had left. 

In the end, it had all been for nothing – my worrying, that is. Apparently, our cloak provided enough of a shield. If the Cetians were aware of our presence on the planet, they gave no indication. 

They didn't come for the other humanoid life on the planet either. Instead, according to our sensors and what Jean could detect as well, they drained several lakes and rivers, sucking up all the water. They took chunks of rocks from the planet too, though we couldn't say why. Who knows, maybe the rocks contained some form of their precious benzite, the substance they enslaved people to mine for. One people's treasure is another's trash, I guess. Cetians are raiders in this galaxy, raping other planets for their whims.

Their foray had one distinct impact on us – it made us redouble our efforts in getting out of here. Suddenly Hank and Cyclops were spending long, **long** days at shuttle repair. Jean would periodically report back to the group during a meal ("They're making progress," she'd say, when they decided to skip dining with the group in favor of hurriedly eating their meal in engineering.)

This planet had been benign enough, but it wasn't any longer. We all were eager to get out of here. Most of the rest of us (myself included, believe it or not) offered to help too, but as Hank once explained, it would take longer for them to explain the workings of engines to us than any benefit they would gain. So we left them alone to keep working at that shuttle.

****************

One day, when we had been stranded for no less than a total of fifteen weeks (I swear, it seemed longer), Hank and Cyclops had good news. The shuttle was repaired!

We knew they had been getting close for a while. After doing a number of tests and simulations, they were confident that it was good enough to make the journey back to An'zhina.

So our plan was this: three or four X-men (no more than that would fit comfortably on the shuttle) would trek back to An'zhina. An'zhina had one shuttle itself. So two X-men would then take the two shuttles back to this planet, and we'd therefore transport more of us back home. It would take several trips and would be slow going, but eventually we could transport the entire team back to An'zhina. It sure wasn't ideal, but we didn't have much of a choice.

We also knew that one of the rescuees from the FOH camp in Beijing was an engineer. As far as we know, the engineer didn't speak much English but we hoped that we could perhaps entice him – and a translator--- to return, so as to continue with the engine repair. If we weren't able to get him to come, we weren't sure how we'd ever get Freedom off this planet. 

By the way, I can't remember if I've updated you on the history (for lack of a better term) of our shuttles. As a refresher – Freedom came with three shuttles. We had left one on An'zhina, where it has remained ever since. Psylocke and Marrow later stole one of Freedom's shuttles, which then left the ship with one. When we encountered the Fitzpatrick (one of the FOH ships that the Pirates decimated), we took its shuttle, so Freedom was back up to having two. But that shuttle was the one we ended up leaving on Nari Silara. However, another shuttle subsequently arrived on An'zhina – a shuttle carrying nine women who the Pirates freed from FOH. (How they had all fit in the shuttle for weeks is a mystery to me.) Freedom was then back up to having two shuttles. However, that shuttle was more or less destroyed by the asteroid field. So we're left with this one original shuttle.

Also, we talked about naming the shuttle. (Trust me…if you were stranded for four months, you'd get this bored too.) We considered calling it Liberty, which I liked. But Jean had the idea to name it after one of our deceased comrades. People liked that idea, but how would we pick who to honor? So Jean wrote names of X-men who've died, placed the slips of paper inside a bowl, and Rogue drew out a name. Shadowcat --- Katherine Pryde -- was chosen. We decided to go with her surname, and our one shuttle is now officially known as Pryde. Sometimes people remembered to call it that, and sometimes they didn't. But there it is. (We also discussed that no one, to our knowledge, had named the shuttle on An'zhina but we thought we'd check with the Professor on that when we returned.)

Anyway, I digress. When we were confident that the Pryde was stable enough for a trip back to An'zhina, we next had to decide who would be on the team to take it back to An'zhina.

******************

"I'd rather stay here," Jean said. "If FOH or the Cetians approach again, it's better if I'm here. At the very least I can use my powers on the FOH soldiers' minds."

Hank looked down and shook his head. "The mission to An'zhina could possibly be dangerous. Although the shuttle will be cloaked, it has few weapons and is more susceptible to space hazards such as asteroids or meteors. It is imminently safer here than on a tiny shuttle."

The X-men, assembled in the largest conference room, had only begun their discussion but Wolverine already looked impatient. "There's danger everywhere. Sign me up. I'll be on that shuttle." He itched to leave the planet. He wouldn't be happy wherever he was, but he was ready for a change.

Cyclops nodded. He had no doubt that Wolverine would be a fine candidate for this mission.

"I volunteer as well," Shaman said. "I am also willing to pilot the second shuttle back here." The narrow confines of the shuttle would not bother him, nor would piloting one of them back to the planet alone. He volunteered out of duty to the team and to what the X-men stood for, though he knew that an extra benefit existed as well – he would get a chance to see his wife and daughter, no matter how brief his layover on An'zhina would and should be.

"We should send at least one more person on this mission," Cyclops said. "The shuttles can fit three or four people comfortably. Well, using a flexible definition of 'comfort' anyway." 

After all, Scott knew, the Chinese engineer might refuse to accompany the X-men. If that were the case, it could become a straightforward evacuation mission, with the goal of transporting as many people as possible back to An'zhina. Cyclops looked at Beast. "What about you, Hank? Do you want to go?" He thought his friend might appreciate getting to spend some brief time with Panda and the baby.

"I appreciate the offer, but I think it would be in the team's best interest if you and I continue our work on Freedom's engine repair. Granted, our progress has been minimal, to say the least, and we might have reached a plateau in our progress. Still, I believe I am of better service here."

"It's also nice to have a doctor here," Jubilee said. She felt a motherly instinct; though Rory was rarely ill, she wanted her child to have access to a doctor. Jubilee then looked at Wolverine and felt a tug of emotion. Her first thoughts had been towards her daughter and remaining here with Sam, rather than concern over Wolverine's trip back to An'zhina. `Well, he's been so damn reclusive since Storm left,' she told herself, knowing she still felt filial love towards the gruff Canadian.

"I'll go," Hector said. 

  
Sam shot a questioning look towards his friend. Hector shrugged in reply. "Why not?" he offered by way of explanation. There were no other volunteers, and Hector would welcome a chance to get back to An'zhina. He figured he'd be on a shuttle mission sooner or later, and Shaman and Wolverine were easy enough to get along with. Wolverine had never breathed a word to Hector about his night with Storm, though he knew that Storm probably had mentioned it. He didn't fear Wolverine and wanted to return to An'zhina. Now was as good a time as any.

*****************

So it was settled. Wolverine, Shaman, and Hector went back to their rooms to pack their bags, and Hank went to the shuttle bay to make the final preparations on the Pryde.

I knew the chances were remote, but I really hoped they would succeed in luring the Chinese engineer here, he would magically repair the engines, and we could leave this place on board Freedom and not a damn shuttle. The shuttles were **small.** They consisted of a room that was maybe slightly larger than one of the personnel quarters on Freedom. There was a pilot and co-pilot's seat, a small open space, lots of equipment and control panels. A food replicator was in each shuttle, and a fold-out table. 

And yes, there was a bathroom. It's been a long time since I've flown on an airplane on earth, but I would say the size of the shuttle's bathroom was comparable to an airplane's bathroom. It basically consisted of a toilet and sink, and barely enough room to turn around. 

Sleeping bags were loaded onto Pryde, systems were triple-checked, and its dilithium stores were maximized. I took one last glimpse into the shuttle and wondered whether there would even be room for three adults to lie down at the same time. I silently hoped the Professor might use an unethical means of "convincing" the engineer to go to An'zhina, though I knew he wouldn't.

I wondered about Hank not going. I kinda shuddered, thinking Panda might resent him even more. But what Jubilee said was true; we needed a doctor. I can't imagine if Rogue had gone through her miscarriage – or Jean-Paul his HIV diagnosis --- without a doctor here. And I just selfishly was glad my best friend was here with me. We'd enjoyed a Hank-brushing session more than once in our picnic area on the planet.

The good-byes were brief. Shaman exchanged words of farewell with everyone and I saw him whisper something to Rogue and Gambit. Wolverine embraced Jubilee and Jean, and their children. (I stood by as the hugs took place and considered cracking a joke like, "How bout some sugar for Bobby?" but I really doubted Wolverine would laugh.) Hector hugged most of the group briefly, myself included.

The three men loaded their baggage onto the Pryde, and the cloaked vessel successfully lifted off. Jean maintained telepathic contact with them, checking in periodically for as long as possible. There were now 11 adults and 3 kids left on the planet, living in Freedom.

***************

Hank handed a package to Wolverine before the trio departed on the Pryde.

"Would you give this to Panda, please?" he asked.

Wolverine looked at the sealed package. "It contains a tape," Hank added. He had made one such tape before he left An'zhina, and his heart always warmed at the thought of Panda playing it for their son, of the infant Rob getting a chance to become acquainted with his father. He smiled inwardly at the thought of Panda rocking the baby as she listened to this second tape.

"I'll make sure she gets it," Wolverine answered.

***************

Every now and then, Jean-Paul gets a glint in his eyes. It means he has an idea and he's going to be pretty unstoppable till he gets his way. I can't say it happens a lot, but it does happen. Today he approached me with that look. I worried.

He and Jeanne-Marie had been flying around outside, using their hyperspeed and getting some exercise. I'd decided to be a slug, and had spent most of the afternoon laying around on some lawn-type furniture and reading. (We'd set up some furniture right outside Freedom, in addition to our distant camp ground. It was now warm enough near Freedom to spend a few hours during the warmest part of day outside.) Wolverine and the others had been gone for just a few days.

"Bobby, let's talk," Jean-Paul began. That glint in his eyes was bothering me.

"Okay," I said.

Jean-Paul tilted his head. Sam and Jubilee were playing with Rory and Charlotte, within earshot. 

"Inside?" I asked. He nodded, and we headed inside Freedom.

"What's on your mind?" I asked, sitting on the bed in our room. He sat on the chair opposite me.

"Jeanne-Marie and I have been talking," he began, a measure of excitement in his voice. "We have an idea. We want to become parents!"

At first, I thought it had to be a joke. So I came back at him with a joke. "Well, best of luck to you. I think a brother and a sister having a baby is going to equal a pretty messed-up kid, but who knows? It worked for the Egyptian Pharaohs they say." That was the best I could manage, and as I was saying the words, I was realizing that he was not kidding.

"No, Robere, no. The **three** of us will have the baby. Your sperm, and Jeanne-Marie! Then we can have a baby to raise. You and I will have a child, a child with both of our genes!"

My head slumped down into my hands. "I can't be hearing this," I said. "Can we go back to you lusting after Gambit?"

"Robere," he got up and placed his hands on my shoulders, "it's you I love, and you I want to be with. You know that."

"But are you serious about wanting a baby?? And why in the galaxy haven't you mentioned this before?"

"I have mentioned it," he said. "You know about Joanne. I have always wanted children."

I could have sworn that Jean-Paul hadn't given any recent indication of wanting another child. But then I thought about it and I really tried to see it from his perspective. Maybe he had. He had kind of said some words to that effect but I hadn't paid much attention to them, thinking there wasn't exactly a supply of babies for him to adopt on An'zhina.

"And Jeanne-Marie wants another one," he continued. "She's accepted that Stephan's gone. But she wants another chance, a chance to raise a good kid. Her time may be running out, amour. You know Jeanne-Marie and I are not that many years away from 40."

"I know." I was quiet. Numb, I couldn't think of anything to say.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"I'm so confused. Tell me….like, what exactly are you proposing? The three of us raise the child together?"

"Yes. All three of us can be co-parents. We know that different kinds of families can work. Look at how well things work with Jubilee's child, with everyone chipping in to take care of her. We can do the same."

I looked down and shook my head. I didn't want to meet Jean-Paul's eager eyes. "Jean-Paul, there's one piece missing from your equation. I don't **want** to have children."

"What?" he asked, sounding surprised. 

And then I was angry. How in the hell could he be surprised? "Jean-Paul….Jean-Paul. Have I **ever** mentioned wanting a kid of my own?"

He was quiet. "But you're so good with Rory. And the others."

"I'm good with them, yeah. Because I like the role I have. I'm Uncle Bobby, I play with them a few hours a day, but I don't change any dirty diapers or have to teach them or do any of the difficult parent stuff. I like being an Uncle. But a father? No. Way. I can never imagine that for myself."

And then he was getting angry. And I was angry at his anger and his presumption. We argued, we talked in circles for a while.

"It will be so easy," he was saying.

"If you really think that, I got no idea where you get your ideas on parenting from."

"There will be three of us to take care of the baby."

"It doesn't matter that there are three of us. I don't **want** one!" I practically shouted that last sentence.

"We can get a chance to shape and mould a human life, to teach someone, to raise someone!" 

He seemed not to care about my anger, so I hit below the belt. "Yeah, Jeanne-Marie did a bang-up job on her kid, that's for sure."

Jean-Paul looked as if he were ready to slap me – and given his hyperspeed, I saw a strange movement in the vicinity of his arm which suggested he'd been about to, but stopped himself in time. It was a low blow to be sure, but Stephan was not exactly a model kid. And we never really discussed **why** he'd turned out that way. Did I truly think it was Jeanne-Marie's fault? I'm sure it wasn't entirely….who knows how much of it was Stephan's inborn personality, his father's influence, the culture he was raised in. There were any number of factors and it's unfair (and sexist, I guess) to just blame the mother, I know. And I didn't know Jeanne-Marie when she was raising him; I didn't see what she and her husband did or didn't do.

But I'd always held a sneaking suspicion that she was at least partly to blame for the rotten egg her son turned out to be.

"That was mean. Take it back." Jean-Paul sounded hurt and now his anger rivaled mine.

"Take it back?" I repeated. "What, are we in third grade again? I'm not taking anything back and I am sure as hell not taking part in this crazy scheme!"

Jean-Paul got up and left the room, without saying another word to me.

*******************

"I mean, what the hell? Does he just expect me to roll over and agree to this?"

Bobby was sitting inside Jubilee's room the next morning. A colder day, most X-men were assembled in the rec room or gym. Group training sessions were finished for the day, and Bobby had sought out Jubilee's comfort.

"I can't believe he just springs it on you like that," Jubilee said.

Bobby got up and paced around the small space. "I can't believe how little regard he has for what I want. It's like he expects me to go along, on a moment's notice, on this major, **major** life change!"

"You'd think he'd realize what a big deal parenthood is. I mean, his sister was a parent – she couldda clued him in to what a big deal it is."

"That's part of the problem," Bobby said, his voice now more tired than angry. "**She** is clueless and he's always had a blind spot with his sister."

"You mean…." Jubilee tried to approach the subject lightly. "Does he realize that she's…um, a little mentally unstable maybe?" She had to be careful here. People had always whispered that Jeanne-Marie was---at least slightly – mentally ill, but it was never a topic discussed openly. Jubilee had heard that Jeanne-Marie's mental stability had been an issue even before the horrors FOH had unleashed upon her. 

Bobby smiled. "It's okay. You can say it around me. Look, I love her as….as a sister-in-law, I guess, and because she's Jean-Paul's twin." He leaned in closer. "But she's not playing with a full deck and I don't think she ever has been." He then added, "Not that I knew her when she was young. But Jean-Paul told me a lot. She was treated for schizophrenia as a teenager." Bobby stopped himself from saying more. He didn't know much about schizophrenia and didn't want to presume to levy a scientific opinion about Jeanne-Marie's condition. He was confident, though, that her mental health had never been optimal.

"And what FOH put her through probably didn't help anything."

"They tortured her, they killed her husband, took her son, and tortured and killed most of her teammates in front of her. And they tortured her twin brother." Bobby flung his hands into the air. "I'd be kinda mental if all those things happened to me too. But even putting all that aside, I don't care who the mother is. I don't **want** to be a father!"

"You are really good with Rory though," Jubilee said, though she knew it would not change Bobby's response. She had always loved the way he'd take her daughter off her hands for a few hours at a time, but she never failed to catch the smallest look of relief and happiness when he handed Rory back over. 

"I like playing with the kids a bit. I love Rory. But I don't want to be a father. It pisses the hell out of me that he just **assumes** I'm going to go along with this. I never said a word to him about wanting to be a parent." He attempted a smile, "I thought being gay got me off the hook!"

Jubilee smiled. She added, soberly, "It is hard work. I didn't fully think it through when I had Rory. Being a parent is definitely hard work. I mean, I was just talking with Jean and Scott the other day. We're trying to construct a curriculum, so we can make sure we get the kids reading and writing, and doing math. Just doing that is gonna be….huge."

"I tried to tell him how hard it would be, but he kept saying that there would be three of us, so it wouldn't be so bad."

"I don't think it even matters so much how many people are involved. All the X-men helped me a lot. But it's still been hard. And Rory's only three! It's probably going to be even harder when she's 12. When I decided to….to not abort her, I had no clue what I was in for."

"Neither do they."

"Well, they can't do it without you, can they? Maybe they'll just forget about this idea."

Bobby thought about it. He supposed they couldn't do it without him….unless they got the insane idea to use Jean-Paul's sperm instead of Bobby's, thereby putting the fetus at risk for numerous complications. Did Jean-Paul even care that Bobby would never forgive him if they did that?

"What are you gonna do next?" Jubilee asked, when Bobby had been quiet for a bit. It had caused a small rumble when Bobby and Jean-Paul had sat apart from each other at breakfast. Jubilee had approached Bobby, asking if he were alright. He told her the story, and confided in her that he had actually slept in one of the empty rooms last night, rather than by Jean-Paul's side.

"I dunno. I'm still so pissed at him, I can't face him now. I don't even want to look at him now."

***************** 

Weeks ago on board the Vengeance, a sense of community had been simmering. Storm had initiated dinners with the small crew, and the women had begun to talk. They had taken baby steps towards real intimacy, a sense of camaraderie.

But then they had encountered the Conqueror, and the progress they had been edging towards stalled. Storm's mind had been assaulted by Psylocke, and Psylocke threw her weight around in other arenas too. Dani and Marrow had patched things up between them after a tumultuous period, but there were no more dinners and no more talk of Storm attempting to convince the crew of the error of their ways.

`It's probably only a matter of time before we encounter another FOH vessel,' Storm thought. Nervous scenarios circled her mind as she laid her head on the pillow. She was not tired, and knew she was in for another evening of fitful sleep. `What can I do to change things?'

After too much tossing and turning, Storm turned on the light and reached for the containerwhere she kept photographs from An'zhina. She looked through the pictures of her friends and family, wondering where they were. She wondered what was new with Rogue and Gambit, and whether they'd gotten pregnant by now. She looked at a different team picture and glanced at Cyclops, wondering what kind of a job he was doing in leading the team. Jean stood next to him in the shot, and Storm knew that everything was well for her dear friend. Her eyes then traveled over to Bobby and she smiled, thinking and hoping that he was happy and still adoring – and being adored by --- Northstar. She then looked at Jubilee's smiling face and hoped that the young woman, and her daughter, were doing well.

As always, she lingered on the photographs of Wolverine. They were so far from each other, Storm and the man she loved. `Where are you, Logan? What are you doing now?' She touched her fingertips to the side of her face. `It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But does it also reach a point where one simply forgets?' She wondered whether someone else had supplanted her place in Wolverine's heart. It wasn't inconceivable; she would never forget the debacle with Sara Grey.

And Storm herself had to fight her growing attraction to Alexander. It was a fight she could win, she knew. Alexander had been standoffish as of late and the two managed to avoid each other for chunks of the day, sometimes only interacting during a meal or two. `He knows,' Storm speculated. `He knows he's attractive and that I find him so.' The Wind Rider also suspected that the appeal was mutual. `He fights it though. I've told him about Wolverine, and he respects that.' And that fact made Alexander only the more attractive in Storm's eyes.

Storm finally ceased the stream of thoughts careening about her mind. After sitting on the floor and meditating for twenty minutes, Storm climbed into bed and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The dream was a vivid, lifelike one. Back on the Paradise Planet, though this time its foliage had the bright, unreal colors of An'zhina's lilac bushes and turquoise trees. This time the X-men weren't stranded on the Paradise planet, but willingly vacationing there. They danced with the natives and ate sugary sweet fruit that left its juices all over their hands. Storm and Wolverine escaped into the forest for some sweaty sex.

Storm woke up that morning, resolute.

***************

"You want to do what?" Psylocke asked, in the slightly haughty tone she reserved mainly for Storm.

"Think about it, Betsy," Storm said. "The crew could use a vacation. A gentle place to unwind and…reconnect. None of you have had anything like it since you came aboard this ship."

"So what makes this place so great?"

"You almost have to see it to believe it. An unspoiled planet, with clean, fresh air and a very tranquil setting."

Psylocke shrugged. "We're not all nature lovers like you. Besides, it sounds pretty similar to An'zhina, and I've seen that."

"Well, Roula and Thyme haven't. It might help lift their spirits."

"They seem fine to me."

Storm had to keep her appearance tranquil. Dealing with Psylocke, having to approach her as if Psylocke were her superior, was one of the most trying aspects of her exile. Swallowing her pride had become a regular meal for Storm.

"Why, Psylocke, are you opposed to the idea?" Storm asked gently as she attempted to keep a sincere-looking smile on her face. Silently, Storm asked, `Is it because I suggested it?' 

Psylocke 'heard' Storm's unasked question. She couldn't hide a slight smile of triumph, relishing her position of power. "How do I know you're not going to use this as a chance to pull something?"

"Because you can read my mind," Storm responded, bluntly. She offered the statement as a challenge. 

Psylocke was silent for a few moments, concentrating. She finally spoke. "I'll talk to Marrow."

Storm watched her leave, realizing the error of her approach. Being direct and honest generally worked in the X-men, but it would never work with Psylocke and Storm chided herself for not thinking it through better. She now knew the route to take, and hurried to get to Dani before Psylocke got to Marrow.

****************

The X-men had been enjoying one of the better days on the planet, spending hours at their campsite, delighting in the warmth. Evening was starting to fall, and most of the X-men had been teleported back from their campsite to the ship. 

Rogue planned to soon follow but she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Bobby sat on a nearby lounge chair, staring at a book. Rogue looked around and realized that, since Nightcrawler had teleported Hank back to Freedom, she and Bobby were alone.

"Hey, partner," she approached him, a smile on her face.

"Hi, Rogue," Bobby said, attempting to muster some enthusiasm as he looked up from his book.

"Those veggies were great," she spoke of their lunch that day, eaten outdoors while sitting on blankets and lawn furniture. "Thanks for keepin' up with your greenhouse."

"It's my pleasure," he replied, his voice about as devoid of pleasure as Rogue had ever heard it.

"I'm so glad you decided to grow collard greens. Eatin' those felt like a little touch of home."

This time, the best Bobby could manage was a slight smile.

Rogue strode a few more steps in Bobby's direction, and gently tipped the book down so she could look at Bobby in the waning light. "Bobby. Hon, what's goin' on?"

"What do you mean?" he sighed, wishing he didn't have to go through this.

"I mean you ain't barely said a word to me for days now," she said, with more gentleness in her voice than usual. "Or to anyone. But I ain't blind. Did you and Northstar break up?" 

There was no way to hide the fact that Bobby and Northstar no longer dined together, and no longer were seen working out or spending leisure time with each other. Bobby had been keeping to himself, and the twins to each other. "I wouldn't say that," he finally said. "I guess I'd say we're on hold."

"Bobby, what happened? Can't you talk to him and try to fix whatever it was?" Out of politeness, Rogue feigned not knowing the reason for the couple's discord. Jubilee had told her, and Rogue knew that Bobby had probably guessed as much.

Bobby finally cracked a sincere smile, though a wry one. "Hey, wait a sec, Rogue. You never open up to me; how come I gotta open up to you?"

Rogue looked down. "Ouch."

"Well, it's true. I mean, you went through something pretty….traumatic here, and you never wanted to talk to me, even though I asked like a dozen times."

Rogue pulled her jacket tighter against her. The temperature was starting to drop and soon they would need to return to Freedom. "I dunno, Bobby. It was…it was really hard to talk 'bout the miscarriage, and really painful. Still is, in a way. So I kept it mostly to myself. And Remy."

"Bingo!" Bobby said, with some genuine anger behind the pleasant smile. "That's how I feel about what's going on with me and Jean-Paul."

"Okay, sugar. If you don't wanna talk 'bout it, you don't haveta. I just get worried 'cause I know you're usually a talker. You ain't been the kind to keep to yourself, at least not the Bobby I know." And she silently reminded herself of how Hank had recently expressed concern over Bobby. The young, suicidal Iceman had been like a pressure cooker, keeping his anguish to himself, choking his pain down. Hank himself had not met with success in getting Bobby to open up recently.

"I just don't know what there's to say," Bobby admitted. "I'm mad at him, he's mad at me. We talked a little. We think taking a break from each other might be a good idea for now." 

He and Northstar had had a few brief conversations since their initial disagreement several days ago. The first talk had ended in another angry fray. Subsequent talks found them growing closer until Northstar would begin again trying to convince Bobby to become a co-parent. Bobby would then refuse to yield, growing impatient at Northstar's persistence. Northstar would grow angry at Bobby's impatience, and Bobby all the more livid at Northstar's impudent anger. Northstar was no longer meeting with Nightcrawler for guidance.

"But doncha think you've had long enough apart? I mean, at some point you gotta talk it out."

"I don't know if we **can** talk it out. Every time we start to talk, he starts to insist on why we need to do this. It's been like talking to a brick wall. I was told that Jean-Paul could be a stubborn ox and now I see just how bad he can be." 

Bobby paused and took a breath. "And I hate the idea of people like Scott sitting there and gloating that we're having problems. We're the only gay couple here. I feel like we're under a microscope, and it looks all the worse when we fight." He then said, as if quoting a gossip, "The two gay guys are fighting again."

Rogue shrugged. "Maybe you're the only one who sees you guys that way." Rogue's firecracker spirit started to shine through. "To me, you're just another one of the couples, and you ain't under the microscope any more than the rest of us are. Heck, I bet most of us see you that way---maybe even Cyke himself. So get over it. We have."

Bobby opened his mouth, at first feeling defensive, but then mildly elated at Rogue's honesty and the way she saw the couple. He wondered whether she might be right. 

Before Bobby could respond, both of their communicators beeped. "It's Kurt. Dinner is starting soon. Are you ready to be teleported?"

"Yes," Bobby answered, standing up and signaling an end to their conversation. The two friends smiled and Kurt arrived to retrieve them.

***************

I can't say I liked sleeping alone. I missed the loving, affectionate Jean-Paul, and I knew that he truly missed me too. But he wouldn't back down from his crazy idea. Anytime we started to talk and I felt myself starting to thaw, he returned to his sales pitch. 

If I passed Jeanne-Marie in the hallway, I tried to not look at her. Did she dream up this idea and convince her brother? Did she want a replacement for Stephan that badly? Why try again when the first one came out so badly? As I said once to Jean-Paul, there was just no way in hell that was going to have a baby with her. (Needless to say, that comment enraged him and he stomped out of the room. Another failed peace talk.)

I was relieved the days that the twins decided to eat a meal in one of their rooms. Encounters in the rec room or at our campsite were awkward, but we managed to remain cordial when others were around. One day at the campsite, Jean-Paul was playing with Rory and he shot me a very pointed "see-what-we're-missing" look. I walked away, feeling an emotion akin to – but perhaps not quite as strong as -- disgust.

Maybe I was being the jerk here; I don't know. And to think that not that long ago, my main worry in our relationship was Jean-Paul's crush on Gambit. That was pretty small potatoes compared to what I had to deal with now. 

***************

Marrow whistled a tune as she walked down a main corridor of the Vengeance. A glitch had manifested itself in the starship's cleaning system, and she was on her way to the bridge to check it out. She felt confident that she could fix the problem after running a few diagnostics. 

Mirage had recently taught Marrow how to whistle. "Mirage," Marrow softly whispered, enamored with her girlfriend's new code name. Thyme passed Marrow in the hallway, and she noticed a dance-y gait to Marrow's stride.

Reaching the bridge, Marrow seated herself in one of the chairs and began to run diagnostics on the cleaning system. As the computer worked away, she checked the vessel's position. It wouldn't be long before they reached the planet. A land so inviting, so gorgeous that Storm and the other X-men always referred to it as Paradise. Marrow had never seen it. Neither had Mirage, but she'd asked Marrow to take the crew there for respite, and Marrow had agreed. Once Marrow's mind was made up, convincing Psylocke hadn't been that difficult. "We haven't run into any more FOH ships lately, you know," Marrow had said. "So what does it matter if we stay on our current course or go towards this planet? If we find an FOH ship, we find it. And destroy it." Psylocke had smiled and agreed a vacation on the Paradise Planet would do the crew some good.

Marrow quickly found the glitch in the cleaning system and fixed it. A well-run ship, a happy lover, and an impending vacation. Who could ask for anything more?

*****************

"Am I to conclude that you still do not wish to discuss this?"

Hank McCoy posed the question to his best friend Bobby Drake one evening. Hank had asked Bobby to brush out his coat, and Bobby complied. They sat together in Hank's room. With night having fallen, lingering in the cold outdoors was not an option any longer that day.

Bobby looked down and shook his head. "I just don't wanna talk about it, okay?" Bobby said. "Look, I know that you and Rogue and Jubilee and everyone else cares about me, but I kinda wish you'd stop asking." Bobby took a breath as he sat the brush back on Hank's nightstand. Hank's thick blue coat responded well to a solid grooming but oddly, Bobby noted, Hank never shed much.

Hank wondered whether Bobby truly wanted his friends to cease expressing their concern for him. "I assume that you and Jean-Paul have attempted to discuss matters?" Hank inquired calmly.

"Yes. Of course we have. He's just being a poopie head."

"Um….poopie head?" Hank asked, attempting to fight back a smile. From Bobby's tone and choice of words, Hank surmised that Bobby wasn't exactly livid any more. 'Perhaps "disappointed" is the right word,' he thought. Yes, Hank decided. For the last few days, Bobby moved as a man weighed down by disappointment and frustration, rather than one on fire with anger.

"We tried to talk again today," Bobby admitted, sighing. "We made progress. We even hugged each other and we said that we still love each other. But then he started it **again**. Trying to convince me to…have a baby with him and Jeanne-Marie." Bobby kept his gaze on his knees. "They won't listen. I wish he'd get his ass back into therapy with Kurt. I don't want to be a parent!" He said that last sentence with particular conviction.

"It is a very, very serious decision, Bobby. Becoming a parent is a monumental undertaking, one which changes a person's life forever. It is not a decision to be taken lightly at all."

Bobby turned his head to look at his best friend. Hank spoke with such heartfelt gravity. "Do you regret it?" Bobby asked quietly.

"I am not sure that 'regret' is the right word. I have not even had time to regret having the baby with Panda, as I have spent so little time with him. I do believe, however," he began, his voice heavy, "that making the decision to marry Panda and have the baby were two of the most important decisions in my life and two I made with far less contemplation than I've made on matters far less serious."

"It did seem sudden. When you got engaged. I remember thinking that Hank doesn't ever decide anything that fast – like without doing a full analysis. But I just figured that you were getting married because she was pregnant and you didn't have a choice. Even though that sounds so old-fashioned."

Hank nodded, a far-away look in his eyes. He was quiet for a few moments. "I do not wish to repeat myself Bobby, but as your best friend, I would only like to reiterate that the decision to have a child is a monumental one. Not one to be taken lightly and not one to be made under pressure either."

Bobby suddenly felt awash with emotion, at the way his partner had failed him by making such demands. He choked down a tear as he said, "Tell that to Jean-Paul, okay?"

*****************

The X-men made the most use of their outdoor campsite as possible. Soon the weather would turn cold again. And before they knew it, shuttles would return from An'zhina and another handful of them would have to take their turns, cooped up inside the small vessels for weeks. The 11 X-men on the planet knew to make the most of the outside now, for themselves and the children.

"I love the way she sings 'good morning' to him," Jean smiled, watching Charlotte fawn over her brother. Most of the group was lounging around outside one afternoon.

"She sings good morning to him?" Northstar asked. He sat near Jean and her children.

"One of the song books we got from An'zhina for the kids," Cyclops explained. "It has a 'good morning' song in it. Charlotte loves the song, and she loves to sing it to Chris."

"She's woken us up with it too," Jean added. She sang a few lines of the simple song to give Northstar a taste of the music.

Rogue and Gambit were stationed nearby, watching over Rory. Jubilee and Sam had taken a canoe-sized boat out on the water for a spin. So as to cause minimal disruption to the planet's ecosystem, the couple propelled the canoe by their own strength, using oars. A motorized vehicle could cause damage and therefore was off-limits.

"Careful, petit. You don't wanna put dat in your mouth," Gambit cautioned.

Rory had been adamantly observing insects. The tiny brownish insects faded into their backgrounds easily, but to a toddler, they were fascinating. When Rory picked one up, though, Gambit cautioned her.

"I wish she wouldn't touch the things at all," Rogue said. "Who knows what kinda germs and stuff they carry."

"Hank said dat it's safe. Said dere's no worry 'bout dem spreadin' disease to us."

"Look!" Rory pointed, excitedly. She spotted another bug and took a few steps towards it to get a better view.

"Sometimes I wonder what we'd do without Hank," Rogue commented. She then fell silent. She gazed at Rory.

"What you t'inkin' 'bout, chere?" Gambit asked quietly, noting the faraway look in her eyes.

"Nothin'," Rogue said. She then promptly changed the topic, mentioning that she missed training against Wolverine in the Danger Room. "Too bad he – and the others – are outta Jean's telepathic range now."

Gambit followed Rogue's words, but his thoughts remained with the look on Rogue's face as she watched Rory. `She still wants a child of her own,' he thought. `Maybe she only says she don't 'cause of what I told her.' He regretted telling her of his fears about becoming a parent. Had she put her own dreams on hold for him? If she did, it would ultimately lead to her own unhappiness, which was not what he wanted. `Dere's somethin' to be said 'bout keepin' a secret or two from your lover,' Gambit mused.

He closed his eyes and decided to stop thinking and worrying for the time being. Reticence in expressing her own views had never been a flaw of Rogue's. Gambit smiled as he saw Bobby walk by with some iced over drinks, and he gladly took one. He lay back against the blanket, determined to enjoy the good days while they lasted.

****************

Psylocke telekinetically demolished several of her enemies on the Vengeance's holodeck. She'd had the computer create a holographic version of Storm; Psylocke gleefully zapped her several times with psychic blasts. The battle ended with the holographic Storm lying limp on the floor. 

`That damn bitch,' Betsy muttered to herself in the shower after her rigorous session. She couldn't pinpoint precisely why she hated Storm so much today. Or, more accurately, she didn't attempt to. All she knew was that Storm's calm, serene manner _despite everything _riled Betsy more than almost anything. The fact that she and Alexander were friends – and obviously shared a mutual attraction, though they hadn't acted upon it – didn't help things.

Psylocke gasped with shock. She reached for the water and shut it off, though her body was still soaped up. 

//Jean?// she asked telepathically.

//Betsy!// Jean Grey's mind responded.

Psylocke regained composure. //Well, well. Our starships must be within telepathic range now. Isn't it amazing? Space is so vast and here we are.//

//How are Storm and Dani?// Jean asked.

Betsy smiled to herself. If Jean wanted to know how they were, she had only to read their minds. In fact, though they weren't telepaths themselves, Jean could soon probe their minds and strike up a conversation of sorts. //They are fine. We've treated our guests well.//

//That's good. Psylocke, the X-men are stranded on a planet.//

//Really?// Oh, this was good. Every time the Pirates came to the X-men's aid, the Pirates' lot in life got richer. She had to keep from rolling her eyes, wondering what the X-men had done this time. **If** the Pirates chose to help, would this be the third or fourth time they had saved the X-men from danger? A broad smile swept across Psylocke's face.

//We're not in any immediate danger. But our engines are severely damaged.//

//I take it you have enough dilithium for your necessities?//

//Yes, we do. We have enough to last a while.//

//What damaged your engines?//

//An asteroid field. The asteroids were pea-sized and….and, well we had trouble detecting them in time.//

//That's too bad.// As they 'conversed', Betsy probed Jean's mind. Her mood fell just a bit. From what she could sense at this point (though she looked forward to reading the minds of several X-men later), there wasn't much the Pirates could do for the X-men, short of towing them somewhere.

Psylocke told the X-man that she would discuss things with Marrow, but she didn't think that the Pirates could do anything to help in the short-run. //We're on our way to a vacation spot. Storm told us about it – you've been there before. I'll get in touch with you again later.// Psylocke said, effectively "hanging up" on their conversation.

*****************

Jean soon found herself in a meeting, sharing with the other X-men. "So thank goodness Storm and Dani are alright," she summarized. She had briefly made contact with them as well. "They're both delighted that we're near."

"It's such a bummer that we can't just….I dunno, go and get them or something," Bobby said. It was so frustrating to think that they were so close, yet tantalizingly just out of reach.

"I know," Jean replied. "But by our pact, they still have six months left with the Pirates."

"Six months, one week, and one day," Hank added. 

Jean nodded in Hank's direction to acknowledge his precision. "Betsy seemed pretty firm on not letting that end early, too."

"You'd think they'd at least let us meet with 'em for a day or so," Rogue said, angrily crossing her arms. Deprived of one of her closest friends, she had longed for Storm's wise counsel many times during the past half-year. Six months was a long time, she mused. It had seemed even longer though.

"Psylocke has no intention of doing anything like that. She can't wait for her team to reach the Paradise planet."

"I wonder why she don't wanna help us, 'dough," Gambit said. "She always seemed to like havin' one up on us."

"I'm not sure what she **can** do," Cyclops said. Jean had probed the minds of those on board the Vengeance. "No one on that ship has experience repairing engines or dealing with asteroid damage."

"The thought of towing Freedom somewhere did cross Betsy's mind," Jean said. "But even if she wanted to do it---would any of **us** really want that?"

"I think we're safer here than in the Pirates' clutches," Rogue said, verbalizing the thoughts of the rest of the group.

"Yes, and besides --- do we really want to **owe** them anything more?" Northstar asked. "I can't even think of what they'd demand from us this time. What could we give?" No one had an answer to that.

"Did she indicate anything as to the nature of the Pirates' immediate plans?" Hank asked.

"The last time I communicated with her," Jean began, "she said that they plan to vacation on the Paradise planet for a while – no idea how long. They are going to go there and see whether they like it. When they get back on board their starship, they plan to go back to their mission – hunting down FOH ships. That part of their mission hasn't changed much, though Storm told me that they have only encountered one FOH ship since she came on board." Jean paused. It was odd, she thought, that they hadn't been able to track down more than that. "Also during our last talk, Psylocke indicated that she didn't want to communicate with me any more. For a while, at least."

Relieved at Storm and Dani's safe condition, the X-men were able to do little else at this point. None of them were under the illusion that Psylocke and her crew would or could perform a rescue. Cyclops and Beast continued their work on the ship's engines, though they progressed at a snail's pace.

****************

"We're still on course for that…that Paradise planet, right?" Marrow asked eagerly. She had found Psylocke in the mess hall finishing up lunch.

"Yes. We should be there in a few days," Psylocke responded.

"Good. So we're going straight to that planet, and not stopping over at the planet the X-men are on, right?"

Psylocke lowered her fork and smirked. "No, Marrow, we're not going to stop and socialize with the X-men. We haven't changed our plans on this since the last time you asked me." `Which was not too damn long ago,' Betsy silently added.

"Okay, good. I mean, a deal's a deal, and we got six more months of Mirage."

"I know, Marrow," Psylocke said, wondering if Marrow's insecurity might seem more droll and less irritating in another setting. "Don't worry. She's not getting a chance to go back to the X-men early."

"Good," Marrow repeated.

*****************

Charlotte and Christopher were put to bed for the evening. Christopher had been particularly wound up that evening, getting into everything both at the X-men's campsite and on board Freedom. He had scattered toys all about the place, which his parents had finally put away. The toddler finally calmed down and was dozing along with his sister, in the room adjacent to Jean and Scott's.

"He was sure hyper today," Jean said. She settled onto the bed next to Scott, who was contentedly reading.

"I think it was the ice slide. He got a thrill from doing that," Scott said.

Disapproval – though mild – was evident in Scott's tone. "Scott, the slide is truly safe. It's not that high, and Bobby held on to him tightly. I stood right there in case anything happened."

Scott eased up, smiling. "I guess it's only natural for me to worry. I know, I know – after everything we've dealt with, an ice slide is pretty tame."

"You don't disapprove of Bobby spending time with him, do you?" Jean asked. She had wondered about it before but hadn't ever vocalized it.

"No," he answered truthfully. Through their mindlink, he had known Jean's speculations. "Bobby's a good guy. I mean that sincerely, and you know it."

Jean nodded. She knew that her husband was speaking the truth about his feelings. She was glad to hear it, but she wished that Scott had made more progress in his desire to cultivate friendships. He had shared this goal with her a while ago, but Jean surmised that Scott had not made much progress in that direction.

The chime for their door sounded. "It's Jubilee. Can I come in?"

"Of course," Jean replied, seeing Scott's nod.

"What's on your mind, Jubilee?" Jean asked, when the young woman had entered the room. She did not appear distraught.

"Should I leave?" Scott asked. "I mean, is it a girl talk thing?"

"Well, you don't need to unless you want to," Jubilee said. "It's not private." She did wish now that she had picked another time to reach Jean though. There was something indescribably awkward about standing in the room as the Uncle-figure Scott Summers lay in bed reading. (Presumably he even wore pajamas, though Jubilee couldn't tell as he – thankfully -- lay under covers. Jubilee couldn't quite say why the thought of Scott Summers in pajamas was simultaneously disturbing and hilarious.) 

"Well, let's go somewhere anyway," Jean said. "Scott can keep reading in peace." She bid her husband a quick kiss.

Once Jubilee and Jean were walking down the corridor to a conference room, Jubilee said, "It's nothing, really. I mean, it's like no big deal; it's just something that's been….on my mind today."

"I'm glad you sought me out to talk with," Jean said. `Glad' didn't begin to cover it. She had hoped to grow even more into the mentor-type role of Storm in Storm's absence. But Rogue didn't really open up to her; not at all the way she did with Storm. Jean looked forward to her talk with Jubilee.

"I—I just was wondering if you could take a telepathic message over to the Vengeance for me," Jubilee requested, as she gingerly slid into a chair in the empty conference room. Jubilee did, Jean noted, seem slightly uncomfortable now. Perhaps having second thoughts about whatever she came to discuss, Jean wondered. She tried to put Jubilee at ease with a gentle smile. 

"Of course. What is it?"

Jean expected to be given a message for Storm. She was surprised when she heard Jubilee's response. "Could you tell Dani something?"

"Oh, Dani." Jean quickly recovered from her surprise. "Of course. What is it?"

"Could you tell her….just tell her that I got her tape and I liked it." Jubilee paused. Jean hadn't spoken, as she sensed that Jubilee wasn't quite finished. Jubilee finally added, "And could you tell her that I'm sorry and that I miss her?"

"I would be glad to," Jean said. Jubilee had not told Jean what occurred between her and Moonstar. From snippets she'd gleaned from the grapevine (and Jean was not as tapped into gossip as some others were), she knew that the two had a falling-out, and that it perhaps had something to do with Dani having amorous feelings for Jubilee. "Is there anything else?"

"No," Jubilee said. "Just that I hope she's okay and all."

******************

"Been talking to Jubilee?"

"What??" Mirage looked up from the book she was reading as Marrow entered her quarters.

"Psylocke told me that you and Jubilee have been talking," Marrow said. Her voice wasn't quite angry. It was somewhere between fear and sorrow.

"And how exactly have we been doing that?" She was more irritated than angry, though she sure did not appreciate Marrow charging into her room with an accusation. "Since I can't enter the bridge, I can't use sub-space to talk to **anyone** in the X-men. So," she put a smile on her face, "did I use my newfound powers of telepathy to do it?" Mirage then paused to take a breath. "Oh. Last night, Jean Grey contacted me. She had a brief message from Jubilee. She relayed the message and then left me alone."

"Oh. Really. What was the message?"

Dani shrugged. "She said that Jubilee got a tape I gave her, and that she missed me. That was pretty much it. So what did Psylocke tell you?" And, Mirage silently asked, why did Psylocke even see a harmless exchange worthy of bringing up? She had to fight back her anger at Psylocke, both for poking around her mind and reporting her findings to Marrow. Psylocke needed more hobbies, Mirage decided. 

"She...she just said you two were talking."

Mirage got up, setting her magazine down. "Look….Marrow, you seem jealous," she began softly. "There's no reason for it, okay?"

"But you did have a crush on her, didn't you? You even admitted it to me once." Again, Marrow's voice did not convey anger – only a dash of hurt and a pinch of fear. She also could not keep a petulant tone at bay either.

"Yeah, yeah, I **did** have a crush on her!" This time Mirage did not hold back her impatience. "But it's over, it's done, and besides ---- I'm here with you now, Marrow."

"Only because you're forced to be." As she said the words, Marrow felt chills careening through her system, nipping at each of her sensitive bones. 'Only because you're forced to be,' she'd said and it was as simple as that. The Pirates had made a deal with the X-men and Dani joined their crew as part of an exchange – nothing more, nothing less. Marrow could wish and fantasize otherwise, but Mirage would probably rejoin her teammates at the drop of a hat. 

`No!' Marrow said to herself. `It's more than that. There's something between us.' Marrow felt it when they gone from having sex to making love. She sensed it when they laughed together or when she listened to the sound of Mirage's flute playing, which was incomprehensible but full of affection. 

Or was it all just her imagination; were the clues merely the result of Marrow's wishes? Was Dani Moonstar just a gifted actress, doing whatever it took to make her twelve month sentence pass as easily as possible? Did Marrow completely mistake the looks in Dani's eyes for something else? Was Dani only pretending that Marrow was Jubilee?

'If I asked you, would you stay with me?' Marrow wanted to ask, but couldn't.

*******************

Somewhere around that time, Jean-Paul and I got back together. More or less, anyway. After too many days of feuding, we just got tired of it and missed each other, so we somehow wound up sleeping in the same bed again, eating our meals together once more. My friends gave me relieved smiles and thumbs-ups, glad – I guess – that outward signs of strife on board the ship were no more. 

Jean-Paul and I didn't talk a lot, at least not about that sore topic of children. No need to pick at that scab anymore. We didn't have any sessions where we sat down and talked over what was ailing us. We'd both spoken our peace so many times, the thought of fighting that battle again made me semi-nauseous. So we left it at an uncomfortable impasse, unspoken bitterness heavy in the air between us. 

We'd still make love, hold each other, kiss each other deeply but at times I felt I was loving a stranger. More times than not, it just felt…cardboard. It felt bland, like the melting-together feeling was gone. Other times, it felt back to normal and I could almost pretend that the Jean-Paul of old was with me.

Things were worse than ever between Jeanne-Marie and myself. She just gave me stony stares and rarely spoke to me. As if I was single-handedly keeping her from her dream of having a baby! I couldn't discuss this with Jean-Paul either; he obviously saw the rupture between the two people he cared about most but none of us could fix it. It was a time of flinty silence and awkward moments. Gone was the sense of family the three of us had painstakingly developed over the years. I had to hope that they would forget their desire to have a baby and things would go back to normal somehow.

They made me feel like I let them down by refusing to go along with this baby thing. Years ago, my therapist would have reminded me that I shouldn't say "they made me feel" and that no one has the power to **make** me feel anything. But all I can say is that I hadn't experienced such a sense that I had disappointed someone –over just trying to be myself and live my life as I wanted -- since my parents kicked me out for being gay.

*****************

Disappointment weighed down every step Storm took. True, she could take solace in the fact that her teammates were basically safe and healthy (despite Rogue's miscarriage; her heart ached at the fact that she had not been able to console her friend), but the fantasies she'd had about the X-men saving earth had never come to fruition.

`So they never even made it to earth,' she realized after Jean's first telepathic update. No toppling of FOH, no massive mental shifts in the rulership of the planet, not even one measly rescue of a Mutant Containment Center. Nothing. 

"I haven't seen you looking so depressed since I met you," Alexander observed one day. "Even when you were recovering from what Psylocke did, you looked better."

"That was my one hope while Dani and I were in exile here," she said glumly. They sat in a conference room with a large picture window and were able to observe the stars rush by. Each was enjoying a night cap. "I thought that at least the other X-men were making a difference on earth." She paused and the room fell quiet. Alexander was not the type to recite comforting cliches. "Maybe it's hopeless. Some days I feel that once my stay here is over, we should just return to An'zhina and live out the rest of our lives in peace. Earth is not my home any longer."

"I understand why you feel that way. I used to long for a safe haven when I was their prisoner," Alexander admitted. "It seems we mutants have one on An'zhina. Maybe that is the right place to be."

Storm continued to watch the stars rush by. Had she been on board Freedom, she would have known precisely how many hours remained until their destination. Now she had to rely on what Psylocke told her, or what Mirage could obtain from Marrow (who often didn't know precisely either.) "I wish Psylocke would allow us to visit the X-men," Storm said. "My teammates are so close by. What harm would there be?"

Alexander nodded. "She likes throwing her weight around. Or she doesn't want to risk you rocking the boat."

Storm nodded quietly. Fate truly seemed to be mocking her, as Wolverine was no longer on the planet with the others anyway. Storm's desire to visit her family would have been stronger had Wolverine not set out for An'zhina. She could have pushed harder – or, better yet, asked Dani to push harder – for a visit. But without Wolverine there, Storm deferred. And Psylocke never failed to remind them that their journey to the Paradise Planet was a favor she was generously granting the crew. 

*************

The trip on board the Pryde was tolerable for Wolverine. At the very least, he had to admit that his travelling companions were pleasant; neither grated his nerves. The quiet Shaman spent long stretches at a time reading or meditating. Hector generally spoke only when spoken to; the young man was innocuous, bland and nice. A little timid too, Wolverine noted. He gave Wolverine a wide berth due, in no short order, to the incident with Storm. Hector had unlimited time to play computer games and had even taken quite a liking to a yo-yo.

The three men took turns sleeping and sitting at the controls. Although the Pryde warped through space on autopilot, just as with Freedom, one person had "bridge duty" at all times. Space was eerily empty; they encountered no one.

Wolverine was glad to be away from that planet. He was removed, now, from the temptation and frustration. His system had difficulty handling the ecstasy of being outside while bereft of a mate to share it with. Much better this way.

Maintaining physical fitness was somewhat of a problem. There wasn't the room to train as in the gym, but they did bring weights along. Wolverine had enough room to work on karate, though maintaining cardiovascular fitness required more creativity in a shuttle craft.

******************

Psylocke slowly and carefully maneuvered the Vengeance down into the planet's atmosphere. Marrow sat next to her on the bridge, monitoring read-outs and assisting. They had finally reached the Paradise planet. After performing several scans of the surface, Psylocke selected a location that looked attractive and set her sights on it. There were, she noted, humanoids not far from that area but she performed a perfunctory scan of their minds and learned that they were harmless.

A few days ago, Storm had again warned Psylocke of the unusual magnetic field storms this planet harbored. The storms had stranded the X-men for months during their first attempt to leave the planet, and the Vengeance would need to be careful to avoid them. "What a pity that your great powers can't control them," Psylocke had sneered at Storm's warning.

The landing was uneventful. The ship and all of its crew were safe, the vessel having landed in a clearing.

"Well," Psylocke began, rubbing her hands together, "let's get outside and have a look around."

****************

Storm, Mirage, Marrow, Psylocke, Roula, Thyme, and Alexander sat around a fire at the party. Natives dressed in colorful robes and festooned with ornaments danced around wildly to the music being played. Food served in large bowls and frothy drinks were passed around.

Storm sat with a wry smile on her face, wondering whether fate once again was laughing at her. Psylocke **intentionally** set the starship down near the natives! All of Professor X's noble notions of maintaining distance from this culture and allowing it to evolve on its own had been shoved aside, and Storm's only choices were to go along or sit inside the Vengeance hiding. 

And after six months cooped up inside a starship, nothing could have prevented her from walking down the entrance ramp with the others. Nothing, however, could have prepared her for what had come next: a gift-bearing contingent led by Nurya walking towards the Vengeance. 

//We sensed your approach.// Nurya had said, smiling her toothless smile. The natives' leader didn't, however, actually **speak** the words. Storm heard them directly inside her mind. Apparently, as Storm would learn, several of the natives had developed telepathic powers after their encounter with the X-men. They did not speak the same language, but they were able to communicate with the mutants, on a basic level, by simply thinking and listening. Nurya communicated that a few days ago she'd had a premonition of the return of Storm and others similar to her.

"What have we done?" Storm whispered.

"Storm, don't be so glum," Dani said. She was sipping a sweet drink that contained alcohol. Nurya "told" Storm that she remembered that several members of the X-men "tribe" had not enjoyed the bitter beverages her people had offered, so they had created something sweeter. "The people here are doing great! Look at them."

"This was such an awesome idea!" Marrow enthused in Storm's direction. "God, the air here is so fresh." She inhaled. "This place is just incredible!" She then planted a kiss on a giggling Mirage.

"Soon as I feel like going back into that ship, I'm gonna get my flute and jam with these people," Dani said enthusiastically. 

Several natives beckoned to the Pirates, asking them to join the dance. 

"Where are you going?" Storm asked Alexander, watching him get to his feet. 

"You can't beat 'em, join 'em," he said, as he went off with Mirage, Thyme, and several natives to dance.

"Great," Storm breathed, her arms crossed over her chest, "The dancing doctor," she dubbed Alexander. 

The music grew in intensity and volume as Mirage, Thyme, and Alexander joined the dance. Storm was passed a dish containing several leafy green vegetables topped with a thick red sauce. She bit into it, finding the dish spicy and delicious. A man brought her a refill of her drink. Storm looked at Marrow sitting nearby and noticed that Marrow seemed mesmerized at watching Dani dance with the natives.

Storm also noted that seemingly the entire village was celebrating tonight. Men, women, and children of all ages were drinking, eating, dancing, talking, and laughing. A small group to the right seemed to be listening intently to a story. 

"They're describing their first encounter with the X-men," Psylocke said, pointing them out to Storm.

Storm, furious at Psylocke, did not acknowledge the comment. Psylocke shrugged it off and got up to converse telepathically with more natives. 

  
Storm looked around, noting that several of the natives' paintings and other crafts were on display, propped up in a circle format. She remembered that they took pride in their crafts. One man got up and showed Storm a rug that he himself had woven. He simply wanted her to see it and acknowledge its beauty. After she did so, telepathically complimenting him on his piece of work, he smiled and moved on to Roula.

//You seem concerned, child.// Nurya communicated, as she sat down next to Storm.

//Can you read emotions too?// Storm asked.

//Emotions? I sense from looking at someone how they might feel but I have no special gifts in that area. Just the wisdom that comes with these lines on my face. And you're right, Storm. I am in good health for someone my age.//

Storm had just been thinking that Nurya moved with ease and grace, and must be quite healthy, for a woman so advanced in age. She had not, however, intended to communicate that thought. Storm sighed and resigned herself to the fact that this was yet another area in which she would have to admit to not possessing control. 

//Are you concerned for the other members of your tribe?// Nurya asked. //Those who are not here, I mean. You told me that they are well.//

//They are.// Storm said. //They are.//

//That is good to hear. I will never forget Jean or Charles. Many of the children remember Hank because he looked like Goluba, and they ask about him. So Storm, what is it that you are concerned about?//

Holding back her thoughts would be futile anyway, Storm realized, so she decided to not bother. //I am concerned about what we have done to your culture. How we have changed it. Our contact here today might be causing you even more change.//

//What do you mean? You saved us from those…invaders. Because of your actions, you preserved our heritage.//

//But we also changed it. For an example, you said that no one communicated telepathically before your contact with us. We might have made irreversible changes to your tribe's natural progression. Not to mention the other tribes you come into contact with.//

//This special gift of communicating this way was a surprise to us but it has been beneficial to us. And yet you see your contact with us as a bad thing?//

//Yes. Of course.//

//I do not understand. You saved us. I will admit, however, that we have changed in the time since your arrival but it was not due to your people.//

Storm knew she might regret the question, but decided to ask it. //Can you give me examples of how else you have changed? Aside from your new method of communication?//

//We have experienced fear. A different kind of fear than ever before. In the past, we feared drought or destruction of our crops. We feared disease and inclement weather. But never, Storm, never did we fear other people. Never did we fear other men and women until the invaders killed and abducted so many others.// Nurya seemed to have a pause in her thoughts before she continued. // We have had to nurture the survivors of those villages they plundered. In our speaking language, we did not even have words for some of what we encountered. We are no longer as loving to strangers as we were. We no longer live with as much joy and freedom as in the past. Fear is constantly with us.//

//But you see, Storm, none of these changes were due to you and your people.// Nurya added. //You saved us from all of it. And perhaps the terror of what we experienced at the hands of the invaders has made us cherish our lives even more.//

Most of the Pirates eventually returned to their starship to spend the night in the comfort of their own beds. Storm took her leave of Nurya and made her way back up the ramp to the ship alone.

Storm yearned for Wolverine now more than anytime, perhaps, since her self-imposed exile with the Pirates. Her desire tonight was not sexual, but emotional. If Wolverine had been with her, they would have slept together in a tent outside, or perhaps without a tent and would have watched the stars as they conversed and breathed the clean air. And she would have been able to confide in him, to talk with someone who likely felt as she did. Wolverine was not the most gregarious person but he would listen and undoubtedly share some of her own reactions too.

But once again, Storm would have to make do without Wolverine. Opening up and expressing emotions was not a natural state for her, but she had considered approaching Dani. However, since she saw that her teammate was still in an exuberant mood from the welcoming party, she decided to refrain from sharing with her. There would be no benefit in bringing Mirage's mood down.

So Storm walked down the corridor to her room alone. 

"Quite a party tonight."

She heard Alexander's voice behind her and turned around. "Yes," she said.

"If you'd told me two years ago that one day I'd be on a distant planet, sitting on the ground at a celebration with a group of non-humans, I would have thought you were insane."

Alexander proved more loquacious than normal tonight, Storm saw. Maybe he wanted to process thoughts about the experience as well, she mused. "How about a walk outside?" she asked. Although it was the middle of the night at this spot on the planet, it was still early evening by the schedule the Vengeance had been keeping. And the weather was balmy with a gentle breeze.

"I'd love to."

Once outdoors, Storm again filled her lungs. The air on this planet was sweet. At the party, she had drank only water, and even the water somehow had tasted….flavorful, delicious, and thirst-quenching. 

"You like being outdoors," Alexander said.

Storm impulsively spread her arms wide. "I am at a loss for words right now, to express my joy at being outside."

"I was surprised not to see you flying around today."

"I do not wish to….flaunt my abilities in front of the natives. Besides, I am enjoying having my feet on the ground."

"Except you have your boots on," Alexander said with a smile, looking in the direction of her footwear.

She smiled. "Perhaps tomorrow we can picnic outside and have more direct physical contact with gorgeous place."

Alexander tried to read Storm's facial expression. Their walking area was lit brightly by the planet's two moons. "For one who says she is so exhilarated to be outside, you do not seem happy, Storm."

Storm spotted a large boulder. She sauntered towards it and sat down. There was room for Alexander to sit beside her, and he did so. "I do not know what else to say about the natives. I am concerned that our contact with them as irreparably harmed them, but Nurya says that is not the case. Perhaps I should leave it at that."

Alexander tilted his head. "I see it as a good thing that you're so concerned with their fate. You're very caring, Storm. You always consider other people and the results of your actions."

She allowed the compliments to breeze past her. "I suppose what's done is done. The fact is that the natives have changed but their culture is continuing. They are surviving and adapting." She turned her head to look at him. "I would be lying if I said that the natives were the only reason I felt concern, Alexander."

"There's something else on your mind," he stated. He was enjoying the chance to sit down. The glory of this planet's lush beauty felt nearly intoxicating.

Alexander was remarkably easy to talk to, and Storm needed the release. "I cannot help but to compare their situation with the sorry state on earth. The natives were traumatized by a warlike race that nearly overwhelmed them. They never saw such violence before. Nurya said they are healing, though it has irrevocably changed them. Then I think of earth. Our planet has had war, hideous acts of violence, people living in poverty, rape, oppression….all of these things for millennia. It shows no signs of stopping, and with FOH coming to power, everything is worse." She paused. "You know that I have expressed wanting to just give up on earth," she said quietly. "It feels even more concrete to me now. Perhaps after this, we X-men should just retreat to An'zhina. There are many days when I do not even think of earth. Maybe it truly is hopeless. Maybe it is better forgotten."

Alexander was silent for a few moments. "What you're feeling is only natural. Sometimes I wonder whether our home planet can ever reach a state of peace. But we have to try."

Storm had to resist a shrug. "Sometimes I question that. I used to believe it fervently, when I joined the X-men. But people have been trying for millennia to change things with little results. I think I would like to live out my life on An'zhina, when my time with the Pirates is finished." 

Alexander nodded, looking into her eyes. Every time he'd seen them, he was stunned by their blue color, and by the depths of the woman behind them. Unthinkingly, he moved his face closer to hers. 

Instinctively, Storm responded, moving in closer to Alexander and automatically closing her eyes. The sadness she felt at her home planet's predicament was not mitigated by the rapture she felt being outdoors in this planet's open fields. But the combination of being free of the starship after six long months and of being able to relate to someone made Storm feel almost giddy. She did not have quite the amount of control she usually exerted over herself. 

But she had enough control to back off an instant or two before their lips would have met. "I—I'm sorry," she said, flustered.

"No, Storm – I'm sorry," he managed, returning to his senses. "I don't know what I was thinking." The distinguished doctor had redness on his checks, which looked all the more endearing. 

"Nor do I know what I was thinking." She swallowed. Perhaps it was now time to take the bull by the horns. "Alexander, I find you very attractive, and I – I suspect that you think the same of me. But –"

"But, I know," he said, cutting her off. "You love someone else." He spoke the words simply as a statement; without reproach but flavored with disappointment.

"I love him. And I would not be able to look into Logan's eyes if I betrayed him."

"I know. You are too noble, too honorable of a woman to betray the one you love." In anyone else's mouth, such a statement might have come across as superfluous but when Alexander spoke the words, they came out just as he meant them – simply and honestly.

Storm refrained from remarking that she had not always been as noble as Alexander thought. She just added, "And you are too good of a man to allow that to happen." She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I value the friendship you and I have built up. Let us not allow our mutual attraction to spoil it."

Alexander nodded. "I value our friendship too. And I hope that somehow, someday I shall be fortunate to find another woman as amazing as the one Wolverine has."

Storm smiled. On days like today, when she had given up on earth, she did not feel so amazing. Just tired and defeated, and directionless.

***************

Cyclops skipped the Danger Room group training one morning. During the previous evening, he and Hank had begun to make progress once again on repairing the ship's engines, and both had eagerly worked through the night. In the very early hours of the morning, the disappointed duo sat back, full of frustration and embarrassment. They had actually ended up making things worse, and it would take some time to undo their error. 

`How could we have been so wrong?" Scott berated himself, as he climbed into bed less than an hour before Jean and Charlotte would be waking up for the morning. 

When it was time for her to rise, Jean took one read of Scott through their mindlink and determined that leaving him alone to rest would be the best course of action. He was peacefully asleep, and she wanted to allow him his rest. She went on with her morning as usual, getting the children off to breakfast before preparing for the group Danger Room session. 

As usual, when the team had its group training session, one team member would watch the three children and today the duty fell to Jeanne-Marie. Jean was never delighted at entrusting her children to Jeanne-Marie, but she silently chided herself that she was being unfair. Lately, Jeanne-Marie had done a fine job looking after the kids; there had never been a problem save one small incident years ago on An'zhina, which hadn't really been Jeanne-Marie's fault anyway. 

When Jean reached the Danger Room, she saw the rest of the team assembled, though she noticed that Hank was absent as well. "He left me a message on my communicator," Bobby was explaining. "He said he and Cyclops had a really late night and he was going to rest this morning."

"They must've had a marathon session," Jubilee said, "for even Beast to be this tired."

"Maybe they made some progress," Rogue hoped.

Jean shook her head. "Scott and I didn't really get a chance to talk, but…..it didn't seem like they got pretty far. In fact, even Charlotte told me this morning, `Daddy's really disappointed.'"

"Yeah, Hank sounded pretty bummed on his message," Bobby added. 

The team went ahead with their preparations. Gambit had suggested beforehand that he ramp up the power to the Danger Room, to give the group one of their most challenging and difficult sessions. With the Cetians and FOH presumably traversing the galaxy, the X-men needed to remain sharp. The team felt up to the challenge and agreed. Their teamwork and fighting maneuvers were top-notch, as they faced and defeated any combination of enemies the Danger Room threw at them.

Cyclops eventually woke, showered, and dressed. He was surprised that he had remained asleep for so long, but his body thanked him for it after the stressful---and ultimately disappointing -- session the night and morning before. 

Standing outside the entrance to the Danger Room, Cyclops's eyes widened at the readings he detected. He noted whose access code had made the changes and grew madder still. He fought to swallow his anger, and wait until the session was completed.

"Gambit," Cyclops later strode up to the Cajun in the locker room. Gambit was wiping his brow with a towel.

"Hey, you're finally outta bed! What's goin' on, Cyke?" Gambit asked. He saw the anger in Cyclops's walk and the set line of his mouth. Gambit used a casual, friendly tone to greet the X-men's leader, hoping to have a somewhat disarming effect.

But Gambit wasn't surprised when it didn't work.

"You turned up the power levels on the Danger Room program," Scott stated bluntly. "It was a needless waste of dilithium. What were you thinking??"

Cyclops and Gambit were not alone in the locker room. Some X-men chose to shower and change there; others simply walked to their rooms to accomplish the same task. (Gambit usually decided to make use of the locker room's facilities, as Rogue enjoyed long showers inside their quarters and he never liked to wait around for her to finish.) But Nightcrawler and Cannonball were in the vicinity, and their heads turned at Scott's words.

Gambit saw that the friendly, easy-going approach would not work. Scott's tone had been irritating, condescending. "I made the suggest'on. The others all agreed to it," he responded, flatly. The field commander on duty at that time had been Rogue, but Gambit refrained from adding in that fact. He didn't want his wife dragged into this.

"To suggest wasting dilithium--- when we have only a finite supply of it and no means of getting off this planet --- was wasteful and foolish."

This time, Remy's eyes glowed with anger. "Shit, Cyke, you're makin' a big deal outta not'in! Jean was dere when we decided to do dis. It was her dat said the amount of dilit'ium dis would use was negligible." Gambit wasn't fully sure that it had been Jean who had made that statement, but his anger got the best of him and he wanted to fluster Cyclops. "You need to get a grip," he added.

Cyclops stepped towards Gambit in an aggressive stance. Gambit took the position of mirroring it, ready to attack. 

Cyclops roared, "Gambit, I'm the one who decides ---"

Suddenly, Nightcrawler teleported into the small amount of space between the two men. "Please, you two. Stop this. You don't want to get into a fight over something as small as this."

Cyclops and Gambit both automatically took a few steps back from each other.

"This is not worth fighting over," Kurt continued. "We can talk about our policies on dilithium usage at a meeting. But we don't need to fight like this."

"Maybe you're right," Cyclops said, through clenched teeth. 

Kurt and Scott looked at Remy. "Okay," he said, though he didn't attempt to hide a snarl. Had Kurt not stepped between them, he would gladly have hit Scott.

Cyclops then turned and left the room When he was barely out of earshot, Gambit murmured derisively, "What an asshole."

When Cannonball had been new to the team, he tried to refrain from taking sides in conflict situations and would never have badmouthed his superiors. But Sam felt more established now, and had a better understanding of the group dynamics. "I'll say. What is his problem?"

"Cyclops is only trying to protect the best interests of his team," Nightcrawler said. "Please do not misunderstand," he said at their questioning looks. "I think that his approach to the situation was wrong and that he should not have overreacted. But surely you do understand where he is coming from – he is ultimately responsible for our safety and he was trying to make sure that we will have enough dilithium."

"Yeah, but Kurt, come on," Sam responded. "The man needs a reality check."

"He's always like dat," Gambit said, disgustedly. "Soon as I joined the team. He overreacts and he sure don't cut no one any slack – leas' of all, me." He sighed. "I tell you, Sam. Storm was a way better leader den him." `And she's so _close_,' he silently finished, 'jus' in dis very star system.'

**************

TO BE CONTINUED

Feedback is music to a writer's ear. Please either leave a review or email me directly at stormkpr@usa.net


	25. Chapter 25

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

__

Welcome to the penultimate chapter of this saga! I hope you enjoy it. -- Stormkeeper

*****************

Scott plodded back to his room. Several months ago he had vowed to work on friendships, on making connections with members of the team other than his wife. He had to admit to almost complete failure on this goal. Although he definitely considered Hank McCoy a friend – as he always had – Scott knew he hadn't really formed serious connections with any other members of the team. He just narrowly avoided a physical fight with Gambit and, months earlier, had found himself in a similar position with Northstar. `If only people saw things my way….'

"It's not going to be easy," Jean was saying, referring to the task Scott now had before him.

"I suppose it's not going to help to mention to him the fact that I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"I wouldn't bring it up right away – you don't want to seem like you're making excuses," Jean counseled. "Although it does help explain why you came off a little strong."

"It wasn't `a little'," Scott admitted sheepishly. He had gone over the entire scenario with Jean, and had even allowed her to "replay" it via their mindlink. As much as Scott would despise admitting it, he **had** been the instigator. Gambit's anger in the situation was not entirely unwarranted, even though he'd been a little too eager to take up the fight too.

"That may be true," Jean said, getting up to stand behind Scott and gently rub his shoulders. "But you have to give yourself a break, too. So you came off too hard on one of your team members. We all make mistakes and have off days. Don't beat yourself up over it." She was overwhelmed with another rush of love for her husband. He wasn't perfect, no; he had his flaws just as everyone else did. But he tried his best and he was such a humble, good -- and under- appreciated -- leader for the team. 

"I won't. I can't wait until I get the apologizing over and done with, though." Scott felt Jean's surge of love through their mindlink. Her support would make the apology bearable. He knew that she loved him always, even when (and perhaps, **because**) he was less-than-perfect.

Jean was quiet for a bit. She then said, absentmindedly, "No one really understands the burdens of command. It's so easy to criticize actions of a leader and praise seems to be so much harder to give." She then answered his unasked question, "And I **don't** think it's you, Scott. I truly think that no one has any idea what being the leader is like."

He shrugged off her consoling words. "Maybe. But I did mess up, and I have to face it."

****************

The natives decided to have another party, this one on the day after the arrival of the Vengeance's crew. 

Alexander used his powers to create some more food for the natives. Though Storm had not wanted anyone to advertise their powers, it was too late already. A drunken Psylocke had thrilled the natives the night before with her telekinesis. (That was, apparently, before she had thrilled several of the native men with her lovemaking skills.) Following suit, Thyme had demonstrated her ability to manipulate energy fields though, as Storm silently noted, Thyme was under-trained and her powers rusty at best. 

Alexander did not create the food in front of the natives, but he brought it to them. He'd sought Storm's counsel beforehand, but she shrugged off his worries. `We've tampered in their development so much now, what will it matter if we introduce a few grains or vegetables they don't have?' she said to herself. `We're beyond trying to minimize the cultural contamination at this point.' The natives enjoyed the food, and deemed it cause for another celebration.

"Wow, do all these people do is party?" Marrow asked.

Ignoring her lover's bad grammar, Mirage smiled. "They sure know how to enjoy life." Just like the previous evening, they now found themselves sitting around a campfire while eating, talking, and laughing took place in the backdrop.

"Are these people…so they're like similar to your ancestors, right? They're kinda like the Navajo?"

Mirage looked at Marrow. Marrow was sincerely interested in the topic. She could tell from Marrow's expression and, besides, Mirage knew well that Marrow was not one to make conversation merely for the sake of it. "Well, there are similarities, definitely. In some ways, at least. The Navajo definitely respect the earth as these people respect their planet. They respect their elders too, like these people do. Navajos do ritual dances, but I'm not sure if Nurya's people are dancing because they consider it a ritual or if they do it because it's fun. Both of our peoples definitely enjoy laughter too."

"There must be a lot of differences, though, too."

"Oh yeah, definitely. The attitudes towards sex here are kinda…."

Dani broke off mid-sentence. A group of musicians had just struck up a tune. "Oh!" she breathed. "They played this song yesterday, too!" The melody was infectious, and her body was suffused with the irresistible urge to dance. Energy and adrenaline pumped through her. She had always felt this way about music. She'd always been gripped by its magical ability to make her want to move her body, and the exhilaration she'd feel dancing to a beloved song. Her need to dance to a tuneful song was almost as much of an addiction as alcohol had been to her parents. Her eyes grew wide and only a few seconds passed before she leapt to her feet. "I gotta dance to this! Are you comin'?"

"I think I'll sit this one out," Marrow replied. She always felt so awkward dancing. She'd never learned how. She mostly enjoyed listening to music, but didn't understand Mirage's love for moving to it.

So Marrow sat back and watched Mirage dance with the natives. The natives definitely made good music, with instruments resembling drums, flutes, harps, and even a rudimentary guitar or two. Marrow tapped her toe to the beat, thinking of how easy drumming looked and wondering if she could do it. She then doubted herself, guessing that a lot of things looked easier than they actually were. But thoughts of a drumming hobby were soon replaced by the images of Mirage dancing. 

Mirage's graceful and sinewy body moved to the music. Marrow guessed that she was not even consciously thinking about where to place which arm or foot. Yet her whole body – hips, head and shoulders, arms and legs just kept smoothly repositioning themselves in accordance with the music. Dani just seemed captivated by the moment, by the beats and melodies emanating from the musicians' instruments. 

Marrow watched her, her heart pounding with love. She was mesmerized at watching a mesmerized Dani moving.

After several songs, the natives switched to a slower-paced tune. The instrumentation consisted of only one stringed instrument, one flute, and an older woman singing incomprehensible words. Marrow observed couples – most of them opposite-sex but a few same-sex (though it was never really easy to tell; men and women dressed alike here and the males weren't much taller than the females) – getting up to dance together, holding each other in their arms. 

"C'mon, Marrow," Dani eagerly gestured as she walked towards her.

Marrow wrapped her arms over her chest. "No, I can't….I have no idea how to----"

Mirage held out her hand and Marrow took it. "It's easy," Mirage encouraged. Marrow got to her feet and stood next to her. "Just put your hands here. And here. And step together, side to side, like this."

Marrow gulped as she stiffly placed her arms where Dani had specified. She mimicked her footsteps, and they were on their way. Marrow stepped on Mirage's toes more than once. She jerked her head over her shoulder, wondering whether Thyme, Psylocke, or someone else from the ship might be watching her embarrassing movements. 

Dani gently touched Marrow's chin and moved it around towards hers. "It's okay," she whispered. "You're doing fine. Just listen to the music and don't think."

Meanwhile, Psylocke sat by the fire enjoying a bowl of meat stew. The flavors were intense; even the seasonings and herbs seemed to jump off the spoon onto her tastebuds. 

She had decided to begin this day with the natives with a round of mind-reading. Her plan had been to tap into the minds of different natives, one by one. She didn't have any particular goal other than fending off boredom and trying to determine which of the men would be the best lovers. Those she had bedded the night before had been excellent, however. Many of the men had been stopping by, offering her a gift consisting of flowers strung together. She smiled and telepathically responded with a "maybe", in answer to the question that the gift of flowers asked. 

Reading the natives' minds wasn't taxing or painful, but it was making Betsy's head hurt, and she struggled to realize why. The people were so **different.** Despite all the tragedies their tribe had encountered, none of them seemed filled with anger or hatred or a desire for vengeance. `It has to be a façade. Nurya herself said that the people changed. It can't be for real,' she said to herself. 

But as Psylocke probed mind after mind, whether it be that of a child, adult, or senior and whether it be male or female, they all seemed to have the same sense of peace and calmness. They all seemed eager to enjoy life. She probed further, delving into people's memories, wanting to know whether they experienced anger and conflict within their tribe. The results were astonishing. Conflict and misunderstandings occurred all the time, but how they dealt with such things was radically different than the means Psylocke was used to. 

Psylocke decided she'd had enough. She smiled at the next man who offered her the gift of flowers strung in a ring shape. She thought she remembered him from the night before, and she rose from her seat. He led her towards his hut.

****************

"I just wanted to say I was sorry," Cyclops managed to get the words out.

A few hours after their altercation, he had left Gambit a text message on his communicator, asking when they might get together for a meeting. Gambit suggested his own quarters. Cyclops had been flustered to find Rogue sitting inside the room as well, reading a book. He didn't comment on her presence, assuming it was there to make him more uncomfortable.

"I really overreacted. I guess I was stressed because I didn't get a lot of sleep the night before. So I just wanted to offer an apology."

Inwardly, Gambit smiled. As soon as he'd received Cyclops's message, he assumed that an apology was in his future and pondered the best course of action.

"I get why you were angry, but I don't t'ink you needed to yell. Or to get so angry." 

"I know." Admitting to a wrong-doing was excruciatingly difficult. Cyclops tried to keep from getting angry once more. He tried to force a smile. "I'm working on not blowing my top over little things. Sometimes I go back to my quarters and see that Christopher has strewn his toys all over the floor, and I need to remind myself not to get mad." Scott was now completely lost as to why he brought that up. He noticed that Rogue had looked up from her book for an instant before lowering her head once more. "I guess I like for everything to be in place. But in this case, I was really worried about the amount of dilithium we're using, since we have no idea when we'll ever get out of here. Hank and I ran into another roadblock last night when we were working."

"I heard you guys had some troubles. What's the story on dat?"

"Well, we'd thought we were on to something." Scott then went on to give a highly technical description of their proposed solution. He concluded it by saying, "We realized, at some ungodly hour, it just wasn't going to work. By then I could barely keep my eyes open. Anyway, it will take us days to fix the interload emitter again."

"We know you an' Hank are doin' your best. T'ank you for what you're doin'." Gambit magnanimously extended a hand. He had played his part smoothly and came out on top, he knew. "I accept your apology."

Scott shook his hand, eager to get out of there. After exchanging a pleasantry or two, he left their quarters.

"Thank you, Remy," Rogue smiled, putting her book down and approaching Remy. "I'll always treasure gettin' to see Cyke takin' down a notch or two."

The two held hands and giggled conspiratorially. Both Rogue and Gambit knew, of course, that it was beneath them to so enjoy seeing their leader humbled. But they had been genuinely angry at him for his behavior, and had to admit that the scene had been a guilty pleasure for them. Rogue felt a twinge of guilt towards Jean and their friendship, but after the way Scott had talked to Remy, she still allowed herself to enjoy his apology.

***************

After an enjoyable night, Psylocke woke up on a soft mat inside the man's hut. She couldn't remember the name of her companion, but after a little gentle probing of his mind, she recalled that he was named Dek. She ambled to the bathing area and quickly washed herself, marveling that these primitive people had such solid bathing facilities. She admired their attention to hygiene. Psylocke was just wondering what to do about brushing her teeth when Dek appeared, his hair tousled from slumber.

//Chew on this,// he told Psylocke, handing her a sprig from a bush. 

She took it from him, as she read his mind and learned that these people had been using a crisp part of these bushes for centuries --- as toothbrushes. She told herself there had to be something to it; the elderly, such as Nurya, had most of their teeth. The sprig had a minty, refreshing taste that was as good as any toothpaste the Pirates had replicated. 

//Thanks, Dek.//

//Would you like to stay for breakfast? They're preparing it and you're always welcome to join us.//

She accepted his offer. `It's not like I have anywhere else where I need to be,' she told herself. She didn't worry about her ship. The Vengeance was nestled nearby and cloaked; somehow Psylocke knew the ship would be perfectly safe whether or not any of the other Pirates had spent the night inside of it. 

The natives' individual huts did not have much in the way of cooking supplies, but groups of people would prepare meals in a few designated areas. Psylocke soon found herself sitting on the ground in a circle with a group, eating a spicy stew. She wished for something more bland and more traditional for her morning meal – tea and buttery scones or a biscuit with jam would have been nice -- but this was not bad either. Her stomach adjusted.

`These people are too trusting,' Betsy said to herself. `They are sitting here with me as if I were an old friend. I cannot believe they don't show more caution after everything that happened.' She continued to marvel at their behavior as she enjoyed her meal. 

Dek then spoke to her, not telepathically but using his mouth – the normal way. Of course Psylocke did not understand a word of it, but she did detect her name – Betsy – tacked on to the end of the string of words he let out. 

//What is it, Dek?// she responded telepathically.

//I asked if you would like to take a walk with me. There are many beautiful places to see.//

Psylocke agreed to it. She had nothing better to do, and she had fond memories of the previous evening. Maybe Dek would be up for another bout soon.

So the two began to walk, Dek leading the way and pointing out his favorite places. Psylocke quietly observed. No doubt, this place – embellished with lush trees and studded with wild flowers -- was beautiful, though it didn't quite hold a candle to An'zhina's exotic and unusual layout. An'zhina was more like a stunning tourist resort whereas the Paradise Planet was like a rustic campground. Both were gorgeous in their own way and, as Psylocke was starting to feel, preferable to a metallic starship any day.

//Were you around when the invaders attacked?// Psylocke asked, after a few moments of silence. Making "small talk" had never been Psylocke's forte, and she was interested in hearing more about the invasion that the X-men had stunted.

//Yes.// Dek replied. //I am from one of the groups that was attacked by the invading people, and they raided my village. My parents and brother were killed, and my sister was taken by them. I never saw her again.//

Psylocke paused, surprised at how casually Dek spoke – or, rather, _thought _– those words. //My condolences.// she said.

//Are those who arrived with you all that is left of your tribe? Where is your family?//

//I don't have one.// She eagerly changed the topic. Psylocke had no desire to talk about her roots on earth. It wasn't necessarily a painful subject for her, but it wasn't one she cared to dwell on. Instead, she delved a little deeper into Dek's mind, expecting to find layers of repressed anguish and rage. Startled, Psylocke realized that Dek was as he appeared – serene and happy.

//How is it possible?// she asked.

//How is what possible?//

//Your mind. You – you're not filled with hate.// She cut herself off from communicating any more. It was amazing – Dek cared naught for vengeance, nor did he live his life in misery or sorrow. He did miss his family but that did not prevent him from his love of life. Psylocke then chided herself for being surprised. Dek's countenance was in line with that of all the other minds she had scanned the night before. They all were like him. No matter what they had lived through, none of them were enveloped by bitterness or grief.

//How?// she asked. //How do you do it?//

He seemed to understand what she was asking. He took her hand. //Come this way. I will show you.//

Psylocke and Dek walked in silence for nearly ten minutes. Finally, they reached what Dek wanted to show her. She had heard the sound of rushing water for a few minutes now. //This is how.// he said pointing.

Psylocke found herself facing the tall, breathtaking waterfall. Ice-blue water cascaded down a steep drop, its foam enlivening a gentle pool at the bottom. Colorful fish swam in the pool around solid rocks that peeked upwards. Dewey branches of strong trees framed the picturesque scene, and several birds fluttered around. The sounds of the forest seemed magnified here, and they were soft and reassuring tones. Psylocke took a deep breath, trying to inhale the fresh and earthy place. 

Gorgeous as the scene was, Psylocke told herself, it was only a waterfall. Then she realized it. Dek's tranquility had nothing to do with the waterfall itself. It was the way the natives lived, the beliefs and values they carried in their minds which allowed them to appreciate things such as the waterfall. 'Appreciate' was not even the right word, she realized. `Revere' might have been a better term. The waterfall, and what it stood for, was a guide for how they lived. They took their sustenance from it and it allowed them to love their lives. 

Dek seemed to realize that he need not say much more. After standing in awe for several moments, they wordlessly headed back for the village.

*****************

The temperature outside of Freedom was starting to decline again. We still enjoyed the outdoors, but we had to make sure we bundled up well. A few times we wanted to take canoe trips but found the lake half-frozen over. 

One afternoon, Jean-Paul had been flying me around outside. It was a diversion and a way to kill boredom if nothing else. I loved being flown, looking down and seeing the scenery go by so quickly as the air whooshed by.

He set us down in a small grassy area, surrounded by trees. "We don't want to go much further in that direction," he said, gesturing. "It's not too far from where Jean said some humanoids live."

"Wouldn't want them to look up and see the strangest-looking bird ever," I smiled.

He returned my smile. "My arms were getting tired too," he admitted.

"Even the mechanical arm?" I asked, referring to the arm that the Endarians had replaced.

"That one not so much, but the other one is tired."

"Sorry," I said, still grinning. "I'll lay off the dessert."

Jean-Paul playfully tapped my abdomen. "Nonsense. You're slim and trim as ever."

"With the way Cyke has been training us, it's no wonder," I added.   


I lowered myself to the ground and sat there, resting my back against the stump of a big tree. Jean-Paul moved to join me. He put one of his arms around my shoulder, and drew back as a small tree limb scratched against his neck. We repositioned ourselves. 

Jean-Paul then reached, gently touching my chin and bringing it towards his. He kissed me. I returned the kiss for a while. Then I slumped my head to the side, resting it on his shoulder. We silently remained that way for a while.

"I'm so glad things are back to normal between us," I said, breaking the silence. And, well, "things" weren't exactly the best they had ever been between us, but at least our standstill was a thing of the past and we were together. 

"Me too. Bobby," he began, turning towards me in such a way that I had to move my head from its comfortable position. "Let's get married!"

"Married?" I asked. Once again, my brain did a double-take at one of Jean-Paul's ideas. I wasn't sure, but it sounded as if he had spontaneously come up with this. It didn't seem like he'd been mulling over it.

"Yes," he said, reaching for one of my hands. "We should make a commitment to each other. In public. We should solidify our relationship."

I touched my fingertips to my temple and rubbed just slightly. "That's a big step….." I began.

Jean-Paul looked disappointed. "I thought you would jump at the idea."

"Jean-Paul, Jean-Paul….you know I love you. I—I just kinda think we need more time here." My heart was racing at all I wanted to communicate. "We have to sort things out. I mean, one day you're telling me you got the hots for Gambit. Then you come up with the whole baby idea. Then we have a cold war. Now we're back together and you want to get married! Dare I brace myself for what comes next?" During my 'speech', I tried to sound as light-hearted and non-accusatory as I could. And, truly, I did not want to come across heavy-handed. I just needed to remind him that we'd been on sort of a roller coaster lately, and this didn't seem like the best time to be making a life-long commitment.  


"To me, it is simple. We love each other. We know that we're going to be together for a long time and maybe –hopefully -- for as long as we're both alive. So what would be the benefit of waiting any longer?"

"Well, I don't want to get married while we're stuck on this godforsaken planet, that's for sure. We have no wedding supplies, and Cyclops yells at anyone who spends a milligram more dilithium than we're supposed to." The incident a couple days ago with Gambit was fresh on my mind. "Besides, I'm not getting married without Professor X in attendance."

"We don't need to have the ceremony now. When we get back to An'zhina. That would be a good time to have it. But we can get engaged now." He sounded eager, almost as if he wanted to have it as soon as we reached An'zhina, and as if returning to An'zhina was a feasible possibility anyway.

I tilted my head down into one of my hands, frustrated at myself. I didn't think my last words really helped communicate what I was trying to get across. "Jean-Paul…it's too soon for us to get married. I agree with what you said---I think, in all likelihood, we will be together for a very long time. I hope that when we're old and our hair is white we'll still be together. But we still need more time before we get married. Rushing into something when we've known each other for less than two years isn't a good thing. Hank and Panda got married less than a year after they met, and they're having problems." 

I sighed and reached to hold one of his hands as I continued. "There are some days that I feel like I don't know you. Like what we went through with the argument over having a baby. And that time we spent apart. Bringing up marriage at a time like this….I just can't see doing it now. Jean-Paul, I'm worried about you. When is the last time you saw Kurt?"

"At breakfast this morning."

With that, we turned to face each other and just giggled. "Man, that sounds like something I'd say!" I exclaimed. We laughed more. Me, I was laughing out of relief more than anything else. I was partly fearing that he'd be so upset over my refusal that he'd start another fight and we'd be in for another period of separation. But he seemed to be doing okay as evidenced by his attempt at humor.

"I meant saw him for _therapy _purposes," I stated, even though my meaning was obvious now.

"Oh, is that what you meant?" he joked. He then added, sighing, "I don't know, Robere. It's been a long time."

"Do you think you might benefit from another session with him?"

He smiled. "I see that this is a purely rhetorical question." Then he was silent for several moments. He looked down at our entwined hands. "I will consider it."

"Thank you." I gave a small smile. "Um…you know I really love you, don't you? You know you have me wrapped around your pinkie." 

He reached for my hand and kissed it. "I know," he said, though he fell silent shortly afterwards and his smile had disappeared. 

"I mean, please don't consider it a refusal. Of your proposal." I then added, "Can we consider it a request for a postponement instead?"

"That's good enough for me," he said, as he got to his feet. "Come on. We should go back to Freedom now."

He scooped me up into his arms, and up into the sky we went.

****************

Marrow was never one to make friends easily – or at all, really. The social graces were not an area she had been gifted in; understandable, given the circumstances under which she had grown up. She never sought out friends, but one of the older natives had been intrigued by Marrow's jutting bones, and since their initial conversation, they found themselves talking often. 

The Pirates spent most of their days with the natives, and were even growing used to their unusual means of communication. Marrow's new friend was named Opaka. Opaka was one of the shortest natives; Marrow sometimes felt that she was going to trip over her. Opaka had more wrinkles on her face than Marrow could count, and her weathered hands felt like sandpaper. Marrow wondered if this was what it was like to have a grandmother.

//I can't believe that we've only been here like…five days or so.// Marrow said to Opaka. //Psylocke's so different.// 

//Psylocke seems to be enjoying herself here. When she came here, she seemed like a woman who did not know how to enjoy herself.//

Marrow and Psylocke had not had too many conversations since their arrival on the Paradise Planet, but during their last one, Psylocke had made no mention of packing up the Vengeance and hunting down more FOH ships. Any references to the near-term and short-term future had involved remaining on the paradise planet.

That had come as a relief to Marrow. She would be content to stay here forever, cozied up in a tent with Dani Moonstar, making love and sleeping outside. The two women had done so on the past few nights. This morning, they had woken up to rain. Mirage got out her flute and Marrow danced in the rain, wearing torn sheets and dodging puddles. When the two women were a muddy mess, they ran towards the Vengeance and jumped in the shower together.

*****************

"Who wouldda thought it, Hank? In the span of like over one year, you and I each receiving a marriage proposal?"

Hank returned his best friend's smile, piqued that Bobby remembered the fact that Panda had been the one to propose to Hank. He looked at Bobby and had to agree with his sentiment. "It was quite a surprise. Bobby, am I to infer -- from the manner in which you introduced this matter into the conversation – that you did not accept Northstar's offer?"

"I didn't accept it. I told him that I need more time, but that I thought someday in the future we probably would get married."

"I am impressed with your wisdom and maturity." A stray thought entered Hank's mind: _`He is wiser than I, in some ways. It is a good thing that he did not make the same mistake I did.' _Hank quashed the fragment down. 

Bobby shrugged. "Well, like I told Jean-Paul, there's no hurry. We got plenty of time, and now just doesn't feel like the right time to me."

"Do you thus believe that someday in the future you will exchange vows?"

"Well, I guess so. You know, Hank, to be honest…..I'd never considered marriage a remote possibility at all. When I was growing up, being gay meant you didn't do things like get married or have children. That stuff was for you breeders." 

"Times have changed, to use a cliche. The law on An'zhina prohibits discrimination based on sex and sexual orientation. You and Jean-Paul could marry and it would be recognized on An'zhina."

"Yeah, you're right. **If** we ever get back to An'zhina, which is another story anyway." He paused. "Jean-Paul really took me by surprise. Again. Just like when he brought up his plan for us to have a baby. I didn't see either of those things coming."

Hank stroked the fur under his chin. "Based on these examples, I wonder if perhaps Northstar is experiencing a desire for some stability in his life."

"What do you mean?" Bobby looked up, intrigued.

"When I think of marriage and producing offspring, I think of the desire some people have to 'nest.' To create a haven from the chaos of life. I wonder if perhaps Jean-Paul is reacting to the copious amounts of turmoil and change in his life over the past few years." He quickly added, "Not that I do not also believe that he truly loves you and wishes to make a public commitment to you as well." When Bobby remained silent, Hank continued, "However, if Northstar is largely reacting to a desire for stability, then I applaud your refusal even more. You do not want to do what may be the right thing for the wrong reason."

Bobby shook his head. "Jean-Paul's **got** to get back into therapy!"

************

A few days later, Dani Moonstar found herself in sickbay. Alexander was examining the rash on her arm as Storm looked on.

"I do not understand," Storm was saying. "Hank did a thorough scan before the X-men landed on this planet. He said it was Class M, and the surroundings weren't dangerous to us." Storm could not help but to love their surroundings. The mental fog that had plagued her since her run-in with Psylocke had finally lifted during the few days she had spent on the Paradise Planet.

"Hey, don't worry," Mirage said. "It doesn't hurt. It's just a little itchy and red."

Alexander finished running his tests. "Well, I can't claim to be an expert on this, but I don't think it's a cause for concern now," he concluded. "Your skin had an allergic reaction to something you touched, but there's no sign that this is going to spread. I want to keep my eye on this, but I expect it to go away in a few days."

"Good enough for me," Mirage smiled. "Hey, I think I know the area where I might've gotten it from. Marrow and I were doing a lot of hiking yesterday. I got real touchy-feely with a lot of the planets and bushes."

"We might need to go there and test some of the foliage, if your rash doesn't go away. And if they are indeed the cause of it. Has Marrow had any signs of a rash?"

"Nope. Or if she has, she hasn't told me."

Marrow herself was approaching sick bay, unbeknownst to Mirage, Storm, and Alexander. Upon hearing her name, she stopped outside of the infirmary and just listened. 

"I think I might know the area where you and Marrow hiked," Storm said. "Was it west of the village?"

"Um, you mean that way?" Mirage asked, pointing. Upon seeing Storm's nod, she continued, "Yeah, past that big lake and the field with the tall, yellow flowers? That's it."

"It's so beautiful here," Alexander said. 

"Beautiful as it is…I'd give anything to be back with the X-men," Dani said. "I miss them **so** much. I love it here, but I want to be back with the X-men." The sorrow and longing in her voice pierced the air. It was evident that she was far less concerned about the rash on her arm than she was over her desire to be with her fellow X-men.

"I feel the same way," Storm said. "Even though Wolverine is not with them now, it just kills me to think that the X-men are stranded on a planet in this very solar system. And we cannot be with them. Our family." Her hopes of returning to the X-men grew even more remote. During a rare visit to the Vengeance, she engaged the sensors and discovered that one of the impenetrable magnetic field storms was preparing to move in at some point during the next few days. This storm was projected to last for weeks, or even months. 

Dani looked down at her rash. "It kills me too. I can't even think of getting back into space on another Pirates mission now. I just **have** to be back with the X-men or I'll…..Well, I don't know what. Or I'll go crazy, I guess."

Marrow turned and silently walked back down the hallway.

**************

Marrow sat facing Opaka, sipping the bitter tea Opaka shared with her. The evening was a cooler one and Marrow found the tea surprisingly soothing. Somewhere outside, Mirage was playing her flute. Marrow couldn't help but to note that half of her songs lately sounded like laments.

//Opaka…did you ever like….love someone but wonder whether they'd be better off without you?// Marrow asked awkwardly.

The answer was short and to the point. //No.//

Marrow traced the rim of the cup with a fingertip. A miniscule bone was growing out of that fingertip and it gently scraped the cup. She wondered whether Opaka's succinct answer provided her with everything she needed to know right there.

//But we do have a story passed down to us through the ages. It tells of a young boy who is captivated by a beautiful bird which sings sweet songs. He rigs an elaborate trap so that he can have her and her music all to himself. He traps her.// Opaka paused. //Can you guess how the story ends?//

//Yeah.// Though not one to use or understand metaphor, Marrow understood. //He lets her go.//

//Yes. He realizes that the captive bird is not happy even though she still sings. He sets her free.//

Marrow nodded and looked straight ahead. Opaka looked at Marrow and thought she might have seen a tear forming in one of her eyes.

****************

Psylocke loved the open spaces. No cars, no irritating noise, and no concrete or pavement anywhere. Just open fields engulfed by green forests and sparkling lakes. People playing music as the sun set, people dancing and beating drums outside as the day turned into night. 

Most natives, she observed, seemed to work for about two to three hours per day, performing such tasks as animal husbandry, construction of huts, making clothing, and the like. The rest of the day was spent cooking, eating, talking, laughing, dancing, making love. None of the women were mad at Psylocke for having sex with the men; a few thanked her for teaching the guys new things.

The list of reasons for leaving the Paradise Planet was dwindling, in Psylocke's mind.

*****************

"Remember how it was when we first got together, Remy?" Rogue asked.

The couple were relaxing languidly in bed after a long and slow lovemaking session. The days on the planet seemed to stretch on forever. They had been engaging in one of their favorite ways to pass the time. Rogue and Gambit curled together under the covers; he lay on his back and she on her side, draped over him. Neither felt like getting up to dress, so they did not. Gambit had been mentally replaying every moment of their lovemaking, trying to savor it mentally. He was humored to realize that she'd been thinking of past lovemaking too, only her mind was farther back in the past.

"'Course I remember it, chere. Vividly."

"I'll never forgit how it was when we finally started makin' love. Even though we couldn't touch, we still did it. I remember that every day I'd look forward to what we'd do that evenin'. Every day was a little different, but I was always excited, and full of pleasure. And a little scared too, but mostly just eager."

He absentmindedly ran a few fingers through her hair. "Aww, chere. I'm glad you felt dat way. I did too. I'd t'ink durin' the day of a new way we could do it dat night."

"An' sugar, you came up with a thousand ways! You were a genius."

He chuckled. "Well, I had a real interes' in my research."

"I remember bein' sloppy durin' a few trainin' sessions 'cause I just wanted to get into bed with you. Remember that time we huddled in the hallway together in the middle of the afternoon and debating doin' it then or whether we should wait for the night?"

"Yeah, we had a long session dat night before. I was sayin' dat we should wait till night again and let the anticipation build. An' you didn't wanna wait! You wanted me den and dere. Chere, you sure know how to make a guy feel like a man."

"I don't remember who won that one," she commented, furrowing her brow.

"I'm sure you won, chere."

"Why do you say that? I always deferred to you back then. You were more experienced so I always followed what you suggested."

Gambit let out a full-bodied laugh. "We talkin' 'bout the same Rogue here, chere? You know I always gave you what you wanted."

She reached for a pillow and playfully swatted him. "Bullshit!" she exclaimed, laughing. "Back then, I did whatever you suggested. Heck, I believed anythin'. If you told me sex was better in the middle of the mornin', then we did it in the middle of the mornin'!"

"Dis mus' be in some alternate universe. In the one I lived in, you jus' had to start your sweet-talkin' and I surrender to your infinite charms. Like dat time we had the quickie in the Blackbird."

Rogue began to laugh uncontrollably as the memories returned. Rogue and Gambit had just gotten back from a mission with a larger group. While Cyclops, Wolverine, and Colossus left the Blackbird to give the Professor a report, Rogue insisted that she and Gambit remain inside the docking bay to make some minor repairs on the Blackbird. 

"Dat was your idea, chere," Gambit reminded her. 

"Yeah, but I don't remember you protestin' much," she said, smiling. When they'd laughed so hard their insides hurt, they fell into another deep kiss.

**************

The Pirates had been on the Paradise Planet for a total of eight days when Psylocke requested a meeting one evening. 

Alexander did not want to speculate on the reason for the meeting as he walked from the natives' village up the ramp to the Vengeance. He had hardly seen Psylocke during the past eight days and she certainly hadn't called any meetings prior to this. They both frequented the natives' area during most of the day and would come into contact with each other upon occasion there, but that was it. 

Alexander spent as much time as possible outdoors. It felt alien to walk through the corridors of the metallic ship. When he reached the conference room and found Storm sitting there, he glanced at her and detected that she felt the same way. 

When Dani, Storm, Alexander, Roula, and Thyme had all assembled in the room, Psylocke began to talk. Marrow sat by Psylocke's side, glumly looking at her co-leader.

"Marrow and I have been talking," Psylocke began. In contrast to Marrow, Psylocke looked full of optimism and vitality. "I want to stay here, with the natives. For an indefinite period of time. I plan to be here a while, and I don't have any plans to go back into space. Or to resume what we were doing as Pirates."

"And I'm staying too," Marrow mumbled. She looked downwards.

Storm stifled a gasp at their words. She shot a glance in Mirage's direction and saw her own surprise mirrored on her friend's face.

"So that's it," Psylocke said, spreading her arms. "The Pirates are no more. Marrow and I have decided that you are free to take a shuttle and go. All of you. You can leave whenever you want." She continued, "You can go to the X-men on that planet on which they're stranded, or you can go all the way back to An'zhina."

Storm was free. She felt as if she had just been granted a pardon for a crime or a stay of execution. Her long, self-imposed exile from the X-men had ended early. Listening to Psylocke, she somehow knew that she did not need to fear Betsy abruptly changing her mind. She meant what she said. Storm was a free woman. She could re-join the X-men and reunite with her family! She wondered whether the look on her face displayed the utter elation she felt. She had to force herself to sit still instead of jumping out of the chair cheering. She saw Alexander looking at her happily, and couldn't resist flashing him an uncharacteristic, broad grin.

Dani Moonstar sat in shock. Marrow had not said anything about this at all. For the past two days, Marrow had been oddly quiet and distant. She had seemed in a reflective mood. Dani had guessed that some serious thoughts were churning around Marrow's mind. But she had no idea that Marrow was going to do this. 

She looked up and locked eyes with Marrow. Marrow looked simultaneously as at peace and as miserable as Dani had ever seen her. 

Dimly, Mirage heard conversations taking place in the background as she observed Psylocke leave the room. Roula and Thyme talked at length and seemed to be saying they wanted to remain on the planet with Psylocke, Marrow, and the natives. Mirage couldn't focus her thoughts. She heard Storm and Alexander eagerly discuss shuttle preparations and she thought they talked about trying to leave perhaps as early as the following morning due to the approach of the magnetic field storms.

Blinking her eyes, Mirage got up and left the room. She half-ran down the corridor and out of the ship. The evening was a cool one, and a crisp wind hit her as she walked towards the tent she shared with Marrow outside. She looked up into the night sky and saw a glowing moon illuminating her way. Then she heard footsteps behind her.

"Marrow." She said her lover's name, turning to face her.

Marrow swallowed. "I love you, Dani," she said, her trembling voice barely above a whisper. "But I know you'd rather be back with the X-men."

Marrow looked as if she might say more, but she bit her lip. Mirage stood facing her, feeling as if she might burst out of her own skin.

She then reached a hand and placed it gently on Marrow's shoulder. "I care about you, Marrow. But I'm an X-man. And I need to be with my people." Fearing a breakdown, Dani didn't want to say more, either. 

"I know. And I know that you don't feel the same as I do about you." She said the words without accusation or self-pity -– just mournful acceptance. The tears welling in Marrow's eyes were visible in the moonlight. 

Dani's ears burned. She wanted to correct Marrow, tell her that she was wrong on that last statement. But her mouth had dried up, her head hurt. And then suddenly Storm and Alexander walked by.

"Hey, Dani," Alexander called. "Can you be ready by morning? We want to leave at first light, because a storm is going to be coming in later tomorrow. If we don't leave early tomorrow, we'll be trapped for at least seven weeks."

"Sure, whatever," Dani replied, without looking their way. Her voice trembled now, too.

"We're going to say goodbye to Nurya and the others. Want to join us?" Alexander asked. Storm shot him a look.

"Maybe later."

Storm ushered Alexander away, and when they were out of earshot, Marrow spoke again. "I – uh – I don't like big goodbyes. I'm not good at that sorta stuff. But can I ask something of you?"

"Anything, Marrow."

"Can we make love one more time? That can be our goodbye." And, Marrow silently added, the last time we see each other. She didn't know how or if she was going to make it through this. She took a deep breath and tried to believe that Opaka would help her find the strength.

Dani reached for Marrow's hand and took it. "Come on," she whispered, leading her towards their tent.

***************

The following morning, Storm was on board the Vengeance. She returned from the shuttle bay to her old quarters. Satisfied with the condition of the shuttle, she wanted to perform one final check of her room to ensure that everything had been packed.

Jean and the other X-men had been thrilled beyond words when Storm had been able to share the news during this morning's telepathic "check in" performed by Jean. Storm was told that the X-men "would be celebrating" this evening. The shuttle that Psylocke was giving them had half-warp capacity, which meant that the trip to the planet would take roughly five to six hours. She was floored to realize that she would be back with the X-men in time for tonight's party. (They could be cutting it close, though; obviously evening on the X-men's planet and evening on the Paradise Planet occurred at different times, and the X-men were ahead.) Storm had hardly been able to sleep last night with the excitement and sheer joy at the prospect of the reunion. The fact that Wolverine would not be there dampened her spirits considerably, but she still rejoiced at seeing the rest of the X-men again.

Storm's ears perked up as she exited the empty room. She was startled upon hearing the sound of crying.

"Dani," she called, rushing into the quarters next to hers.

She found Mirage standing over her suitcase, sobbing. Storm wrapped her arms around her. 'In my eagerness to return to the X-men, I neglected thinking about what Dani is going through,' Storm berated herself. Though she realized that wasn't entirely true. She had looked all around for Dani last night but had not been able to locate her.

"There, there," she murmured quietly, as she stroked Dani's hair. She let the young woman continue crying. 

Dani allowed herself to slump into Storm's arms and be supported by her strong friend. She didn't try to muffle her sobs, allowing loud wails to escape. 

"Why can't it ever be easy?" she cried. "Why can't I ever have an easy love life?"

"It's not easy for anyone," Storm whispered. 

When Mirage's crying seemed to be subsiding, Storm pulled back. She obtained some tissues from the bathroom, and Mirage gladly blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Dani sat back on the empty bed. Storm also got her hands on a water bottle and offered Dani some cool water to drink. Dani began to compose herself, as Storm sat down next to her, placing an arm about her shoulders. 

"You do want to go back to the X-men, don't you?" Storm asked softly. 

Upon seeing Dani's confused look, Storm pressed, "Surely you don't love Marrow." She said it as a statement, not a question.

When she received no response, Storm added, "I thought you were dying to return to the X-men."

After a long moment of silence, Dani answered, "I am. But leaving her might kill me too."

Then Dani abruptly stood up. "I gotta finish packing."

"Do you need any help?"

"No. I'm almost done. But can you and Alexander give me another hour? I know you can't wait to see the X-men, but there are a few more natives I want to say goodbye to."

"Of course," Storm replied. She then hesitated before adding, "Just please remember….we do not have much time. The magnetic field storm should begin any time this afternoon and possibly earlier. If we do not leave soon----"

"I know, Storm. I know. Just one more hour and I'll be ready, okay?"

Storm nodded. The two women exchanged one more embrace before she left Mirage alone.

Mirage folded a T-shirt and placed it inside her suitcase. She had always thought that Marrow was out of touch with her emotions when she said that she loved her. Marrow had been like a child who needed an aunt, a lost soul needing a mentor. But Marrow had decided to let Dani go – the most mature thing that she had ever done, and the most selfless. 

`So she really does mean it now when she says she loves me,' Mirage realized. Marrow's lovemaking had communicated that without words last night anyway.

She left her suitcase sitting on the bed and briskly walked outdoors towards the tent they shared. It was positioned outside of the natives' village. The outdoor air felt different this morning, charged and humid with the promise of the atmospheric storm. Dani moved faster and finally reached the tent. She unzipped the flap and looked inside. Empty. 

Dani was then determined to reach the village, and broke into a jog. Heart beating swiftly, she spoke to the first native she saw.

//Have you seen Marrow today?//

He hadn't. Dani cornered several others and asked if they had seen her. None had.

//I think she might have gone to the waterfall.// One of them told her.

"The waterfall?" Mirage spoke out loud. Her heart skipped a beat. The waterfall was beautiful, but … Without her knowing exactly why, a terrifying thought began to worm its way inside her mind. 

  
Dani broke into a run. Nuances of both love and despair in Marrow's lovemaking the previous night were flashing vividly through her mind as she dashed past the questioning looks of the natives. Thankful for her training, she was able to sprint quickly and strongly. She tried to banish the growing sense of dread that was forming in the pit of her stomach.

The sound of water rushing told her she was growing close. The ground was moist; Dani's boots made squelches as they hit the ground and soon became soiled with mud. She continued to run, rapidly breathing in the damp air and finally reaching the majestic site.

"Marrow?" she called out. Mirage's eyes darted around, scanning the dense foliage and the climb leading up towards the top of the waterfall. No sign of her anywhere. "Marrow?" she called louder, though her voice was drowned out by the splashing of the waterfall itself. 

Mirage slowly approached the rim of the waterfall and peered down. What she could discern caused her heart to plummet towards her gut. Amidst the splashes of white foam was what chillingly looked like a body floating in the water.

****************

We used some of our dwindling dilithium supplies to replicate a few decorations. We all knew it wasn't wise to replicate things we didn't need, but we really wanted to celebrate Storm and Dani's homecoming. Besides, with them would be another shuttle, which would bring more dilithium and help expedite our return to An'zhina. We planned for a low-key but joyous party.

It was during lunch that Jean made the announcement. When we sat down to eat, Jean wasn't present yet; Cyke said that she would be doing her check-in with Storm to get more details on their arrival. Jean walked into the mess hall as if she were a member of a funeral procession. All eyes turned to look at her.

"Mommy, what wrong?" Charlotte asked as soon as her mother walked through the doors.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," Jean began. "I have some very good news too, but the bad news I have is really…tragic." She paused for just a second before saying, "Marrow is dead."

I am embarrassed to admit it. But my first reaction was relief; I had been really worried that she was going to tell us something had happened to Storm or Dani. I then looked around the room and wondered if my teammates felt the same relief. I would guess from the looks on their faces that most of them did.

"Oh my goodness!" Cyclops said. "What happened?"

"Well, Storm didn't go into a lot of detail – and I didn't want to probe her mind. But it appears that Marrow committed suicide."

"Why did she do that?" Kurt asked. "Did she leave a suicide note?"

"She didn't leave anything written. Storm thinks that she was upset at Dani leaving. She says that's the conclusion that everyone else has come to as well."

"So, are Storm and Dani still comin'?" Rogue asked.

"Yes. Actually, that is the good news that I have. Apparently…Psylocke gave them the ship!"

"The starship? Are you serious?" Cyclops asked, sounding as astonished as the rest of us must have felt.

"Yes. According to Storm, Psylocke felt bad for them. She told Storm that Marrow would have wanted Dani to have the ship." Jean paused and added, "I think Psylocke may have been feeling some guilt as well over some things that she did, but I don't want to enter her mind. Psylocke left the shuttles for herself but she gave the Vengeance to Storm and Dani. Anyway, the ship just left the planet. The magnetic field storms have started up as well – Storm said they got out just in the nick of time. Alexander is with them as well." Jean took a breath after saying all that.

Cannonball spoke the question that was burning in my mind too. "So….since they have the Vengeance….." his voice trailed off.

"We can use it to tow Freedom back to An'zhina," Cyke finished. "We can get out of here!"

Excited looks skipped through the room and a few people cheered. Jean-Paul happily grabbed one of my hands. We would soon be on our way back to An'zhina! 

"They're travelling at sub-warp and should be here in just over an hour," Jean added. 

After a few seconds, I immediately felt guilt for my happiness. I saw a few guilty expressions on other faces too. Nightcrawler then spoke, "I would like to say a prayer for Marrow. Could we please observe a moment of silence?"

"I think that would be a good idea," Cyke added, suddenly somber again.

We all sobered up really quickly. We bowed our heads and Kurt prayed quietly. Not being religious, I didn't follow every word of what he said, but he kept it brief, saying that Marrow had suffered much during her life. He said words to the effect of it being sad that a mutant took her own life, and that he wished her peace in the afterlife. 

After this, lunch was finished in awkward silence, for the most part. I didn't know what to say, and I don't think anyone did. We were all overjoyed, I would surmise, at the fact that our being stranded here was over. But Marrow was dead by her own hand. None of us could say we had been close to her. She didn't really even try to make friends during her time in the X-men, and most of us didn't really even like her that much. I can't speak for anyone else, but that made my guilt over our having acquired the Vengeance even worse. 

After what seemed like only a few minutes more, our leaders – Cyclops, Rogue, and Hank – seated themselves at one table in the back of the room to discuss where the X-men would go from here. The rest of us lingered around the mess hall as well. I was sitting near Jean-Paul, Jeanne-Marie, Jubilee, Sam, and Gambit.

"I guess we should put these decorations away," Jubilee said. 

I turned my head to look at the table with streamers and limp balloons piled on top. We hadn't put them up yet since we'd been thinking that Storm and the others would arrive by shuttle and we'd have more time.

"I feel so guilty," I said quietly, shaking my head. "I'm so glad we'll have a functioning starship again. But…."

Jean-Paul patted my back. "I think we all feel that way."

"She musta really had it bad for Dani," Jubilee said.

"And I wonder how Dani's doing," I added.

"Do you think she," Jubilee began, "like….felt something for Marrow?"

"We can only guess what deir relationship was like," Gambit said. "But even if dey hated each other, or if Dani hated Marrow, she still gonna feel somet'in over her dyin'."

"'Specially since Marrow **killed** herself," Sam added. "If nothin' else, she's gonna feel some guilt. Even if there ain't no logical reason to feel that way," he quickly added.   


I looked at Jean-Paul's face. He was looking really depressed, which puzzled me. Jean-Paul **is** a caring person, but he didn't know Marrow well at all. "You okay?" I asked quietly.

"You know, gays and lesbians have a higher suicide rate than heterosexuals," he said. "It's distressing to see one kill herself."

"Mutants have higher suicide rates than non-mutants too," Sam said. 

"Could Dani be...you know, at risk?" Jubilee asked. I looked at her face. She had the depressed look of Jean-Paul mixed with growing dread.

"I will talk to Jean," Jean-Paul said, presumably referring to asking her to keep an eye on Dani.

But our depressing conversation ended when Cyke, Rogue, and Hank stood to address the group. "We've decided that once Storm and the others are here with the starship, we'll use Vengeance to tow Freedom in the direction of Wolverine's shuttle," Cyclops said. "We'll rendezvous with them and then decide as a group our next steps."

"That way everyone has a chance to talk 'bout our next plan of action," Rogue said.

It made sense. Although we were itching to return to An'zhina, we **were** on a mission to go to earth; we were going to make change. We knew that the Professor and the others on An'zhina were probably dying to hear that we were safe. Maybe Shaman or Hector would want to remain on a shuttle to An'zhina so they could update the others. Whatever the case, Cyke was clear that he wanted us to plot our next course of action as a group.

******************

Storm sat on the floor of Dani's quarters outside of the washroom in which Dani had locked herself. Every now and then, Storm would attempt to initiate conversation with Dani. She would also listen with her ear pressed against the door, feeling intense relief when she heard the sound of tears. At least it meant that Dani was alive. She didn't think her friend was at risk of suicide, but she wanted nothing left to chance either. Storm had even used the computer to beam out razors and other sharp objects.

When Mirage had discovered Marrow's body, pandemonium had erupted. The shocked natives wanted to believe that she had fallen and the death was accidental. But none could recall anyone ever accidentally falling there. Suicide was unknown to the natives as well. The image of the tiny Opaka shaking with tears would forever be etched inside Storm's memory

"That has to be it," Psylocke had said to a stunned Storm. "Suicide, I mean. She and I talked before we had our meeting where we told you that you could all go free. I told her that maybe she could go back with Dani and re-join the X-men. Or at least stay with the X-men. But Marrow said she felt she'd done too much damage there, that they'd never forgive her for all the FOH soldiers she killed, and that she never fit in there anyway. She kept saying that she couldn't live in Dani's world. I think she was hoping that Dani would want to stay with her. Or that she'd at least **ask** her to return to the X-men with her."

Storm had felt her stomach sour at thoughts of what could have been. And she knew that she could not falter now, either. Dani would need her to be strong, and the magnetic field storm was looming ahead.

Storm and Alexander had attempted to convince Dani that they wouldn't mind waiting out the seven weeks for the storm to pass; they had spent so much time away from the X-men that seven more weeks wouldn't matter much. But Dani kept insisting that she wanted to leave right away.

"I gotta get away from here," Dani had said.

Storm couldn't read Mirage's blank facial expression, other than knowing it had contained a mixture of shock and heartbreak. But determination was there as well. No matter what Storm or Alexander did, they could not convince her to remain on the Paradise Planet and grieve.

More shock for Storm ensued that day when Psylocke gave them the starship. Too numb to question it and knowing they had less than twenty minutes before the magnetic field storm set in, the trio moved their belongings from the shuttle back to the ship and set off, leaving Psylocke and the others with the shuttles. 

Storm's communicator sounded. "Less than ten minutes before we reach the planet's atmosphere," Alexander said. "I'm bringing us out of sub-warp now."

`Maybe returning to the X-men is just what Dani needs,' she told herself.

********************

The logistics were a bit complicated, but they came off without a hitch. Storm set the Vengeance down near Freedom as we all waited on the ground, outside of Freedom. Once their landing was successful, we rushed up the ramp to greet her, Dani, and to meet Alexander.

Needless to say, it wasn't exactly the joyous event we were all hoping for given the circumstances. Storm looked tired, but she seemed like herself. She greeted everyone with a hug and I eagerly took mine. Getting to wrap my arms around her and sense her genuine happiness at our reunion was great. After six and a half months apart, we had Storm back with us again!   


Alexander was affable and shook everyone's hand. (I suppose I shouldn't add that he was totally hot too, manly and rugged but calm and competent. Loved the broad shoulders and I even found his graying hair appealing. Jean-Paul saw me looking at him, and I can't say that I minded the jealous expression on his face either.) 

"I haven't been able to coax Dani out of her room," Storm said, explaining Dani's absence. She then added, her voice much more quiet and I had to strain to hear, "Jean, you have been…..?"

"Yes," Jean answered. "I have been monitoring her mind – from a respectful distance, of course. She's alright. I will keep checking in with her too."

Despite that, we decided to replicate a feast including alcohol and other forbidden items, thanks to the stores of dilithium from the Vengeance.

Cyclops then, of course, got down to business. The Vengeance would need to set up a tractor beam so Freedom could be pulled. We decided that two people would remain on board the Vengeance at all times; the rest of us on board Freedom, simply because it had become home for us. (Back to the days of having bridge duty shifts! I had almost forgotten what they were like.) Cyclops and Hank offered to take the first shift, and they quite easily engaged the tractor beam and got both ships out of the planet's atmosphere. 

Setting Vengeance to maximum warp, we took off. Although I often get attached to places, I felt no remorse and no tears at leaving this planet behind. It had not been inhospitable but it was not a place I felt sad to leave either. I just glanced out the window at it once, seeing the planet shrink just before we jumped to warp and thinking of the four months we spent there. It seemed much longer than that.

Our top speed was much faster than the Pryde's. We would overtake the shuttle in twelve to thirteen days, Cyclops announced.

*****************

Rogue and Gambit walked with Storm to Freedom's engine room. The couple was on either side of Storm and during most of their stroll down the hallway, they had their arms around their dear friend.

"It's beyond any sort of repair. Freedom needs a whole new engine refit," Storm said, after inspecting the damage.

"I think Hank and Cyke pretty much came to that conclusion too," Rogue said.

"It looks like it never really recovered from the magnetic field storm damage during our first time on the Paradise Planet. Between that and the asteroid field, I'm surprised anything's working at all."

Gambit nodded. "Dis engine been drough a lot of damage. Good 'ting we got the Vengeance. We might have to make dat ship the one we take wit' us on missions." He looked down and then smiled warmly at his friend. "But 'nuff 'bout dat stuff. How are you? What did you do durin' all dose mont's?"

"Yeah, sugar," Rogue added. "I wanna hear all about it. Jean told us some stuff but it ain't the same as hearin' 'bout it from you."

"What is there to say about my time with the Pirates?" Storm began. "Well, I suppose I do not need to say that I missed all of you very much. I had more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. I had time to read every book I printed up from the computer, and I've never written so much in my journal or had so much time to meditate. I spent a lot of time in the gym and I practiced my flute playing quite a bit too."

"What 'bout Psylocke and the others? Did dey bother you?" Gambit asked.

"They hardly bothered me at all," Storm said, conveniently ignoring the psychic blast with which Psylocke had assaulted her. "During most days, I rarely saw the other members of the crew except, of course, Dani." She smiled, "I always felt it was a good thing that she and I have always gotten along so well. We became very close during that time and I think we always will be." 

"Jean said you only came across one FOH ship durin' your time there," Rogue said. She couldn't say why she'd felt compelled to change the subject; only that Storm seemed somewhat uncomfortable discussing Dani then.

Storm nodded. "I found that quite surprising. I thought that last time we had up-to-date information on them, they had an armada roaming the galaxy. To this day, I find it hard to believe that we only encountered **one** vessel in six-and-a-half months."

"'Specially wit' Psylocke's powers scannin' space all the time," Gambit added. "Could dey have some sorta technology to block telepat'ic powers? Like maybe Emma's helpin' dem?"

"Jean and I discussed that when we communicated," Storm said. "She said she thinks that it…well, it is **conceivable**, but very unlikely. For one thing, how would Psylocke have been able to detect the one ship we **did** find? And unless Emma's powers have been greatly enhanced, one psychic should not be able to block the emotional signatures of all FOH soldiers in all vessels everywhere in this vast galaxy." Storm sighed. "I wanted to learn more from the soldiers on the one ship we did…encounter, but Psylocke and the others killed them pretty quickly and I was a bit indisposed during it."

"Indisposed?" Rogue asked.

"It is a long story," Storm said, her voice suddenly tired. "Let's just say that Psylocke wanted to make sure that I didn't interfere with her orgy of killing, and she knocked me out for a bit." With a wave of her hand, she dismissed their concern. "I am fine now. Truly, I am just glad that Psylocke went through the conversion she had on the Paradise Planet. She is a different person now."

Rogue stepped closer to her husband and put an arm around him. She smiled a devilish grin. "Well, Remy and I can personally testify 'bout how healin' that place is. Right, sugar?"

He responded with a kiss, remembering that dreamy night of lovemaking. 

Storm wryly said, "Yes, the rest of us heard about it." She marveled, thinking about how much time had passed since the X-men's vacation on the Paradise Planet when the entire team had begun to heal from the trauma they experienced at the hands of FOH.

When Rogue and Gambit were done gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, Storm changed the subject. "Enough about what happened with me. How are you two doing?"

Gambit guessed that Storm wanted to offer her condolences about the miscarriage, correctly assuming that Jean had mentioned it during their telepathic chats. He glanced at Rogue and sensed that she was alright with discussing it. "We fine, Storm."

"I – I heard about the miscarriage," Storm said heavily. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have been there to support you during that time."

"We're okay, Storm. We're dealin' with it," Rogue said, though her lower lip quivered. 

"Do you think you might try again someday?"

There was an awkward silence. Then the couple spoke at the same time. Gambit said, "We don't know," as Rogue said, "Probably not." They looked at each other and shared a weary smile.

Then Jubilee and Bobby entered engineering. "There you are!" Jubilee said, rushing up to Storm. 

"Looks like you're gonna be Ms. Popularity for a while," Bobby said to Storm. "There's like a line of people who want to catch up with you."

"We shouldda known you'd be in engineering, working," Jubilee said, as a few more X-men entered the room. Storm soon became surrounded by her old friends who couldn't get enough of her.

"Twelve days till we get to Wolverine's shuttle!" Bobby enthused. "You must be counting down the hours."

"Indeed I am," she admitted, smiling. She then turned to Jubilee. "I cannot believe how much Rory – and Charlotte – have grown in my absence. They are truly no longer toddlers but little girls."

***************

Only a few hours later, Jubilee found herself on a mission. It was one that she was fairly certain would fail; Storm, Bobby, and others had told her they attempted it without success. But Jubilee wanted to try her luck. She had a special edge that they did not, she knew.

Beaming onto the Vengeance, she punched up a map on one of the computers and made her way to Dani Moonstar's quarters. No response was offered to her ringing of the bell.

"Computer, can you locate Dani Moonstar?" Jubilee asked, tapping her communicator. She correctly guessed that the Vengeance was set up the way Freedom was; on command, the computer would locate any member of the crew. Dani had been asked by Storm, but had not responded to the request to move her quarters to one of Freedom's many empty rooms.

"Dani Moonstar is inside her quarters," the computer's mechanic voice responded.

Jubilee eschewed the bell and banged her fist against the door. "Dani, would you open up, please?" she demanded. "It's Jubilee. I wanna talk to you."

Her heart began to race with fear before rationality took over. `No, no -- it's not possible,' she told herself. `Jean's checking in with her. And the computer wouldn't have said she was inside her room if she was….'

Jubilee banged on the door again. "Dani, open up!" she demanded.

She continued on for several minutes. `This is what Bobby and the others pretty much said I could expect,' she reminded herself. 

Jubilee sat down on the floor in the hallway. `But the difference is that I'm not givin' up!'

"Dani, I'm not going away," Jubilee called. "I'll stay here all day if you want."

Still no response. She knew that the hook-up of their communicators would allow Dani to hear every word she said. "Look, Dani, I haven't even seen you for the last six months. Is this any way to greet an old friend?" 

More silence. Jubilee sat there, periodically tapping or banging on the door and speaking into the communicator. She hoped Jean-Paul and Bobby meant it when they said they wouldn't mind looking after Rory for a while.

"The whole team missed you a lot," Jubilee said. "Storm said you've been hittin' the training room and you're like a great fighter now. Don't you wanna show your stuff?"

More time passed with no reply from Dani. "Aren't you gettin' bored? I mean, what are you doing in there?" Jubilee asked.

After more than thirty minutes went by, Jubilee said, "Okay, Dani, I know you don't want an ultimatum, but you're getting one. If you don't open this door right now, I'm coming in!"

Motivated as much by boredom and the aches in her legs as by caring, Jubilee sprang to her feet. She pressed the button and the door to the room obligingly slid aside.

Her eyes began to slowly adjust to the dark room. Jubilee spotted a small candle, burned nearly to the wick. Dani was lying on her bed, with her back towards Jubilee. Most of the covers had been kicked off the bed. Dani's long, black hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed for days.

Jubilee looked at the stark sight. She had seen or heard of a lot of her teammates being in such a state of despair like this, at one time or another. Rogue after the miscarriage. Northstar after the FOH attacks. Jubilee herself, those dismal weeks after surviving her own assaults from FOH. 

She began to verbalize such thoughts, not even realizing she was doing it until after she had began to speak. "This sucks. We're the most shit-on people in the galaxy. Being a mutant sucks. None of us deserve half the shit we get in our lives."

"Being an X-man sucks. I wish I'd never joined."

Jubilee couldn't believe her ears but Moonstar had spoken! Jubilee moved closer, pulling up the chair and seating herself upon it. A few articles of clothing and some random papers were splayed on the chair.

"It ain't being an X-man that sucks," Jubilee said passionately. "It's what happens to us because we're mutants."

Dani was quiet for a moment or two before she said, "If you gimme a choice, I'd rather I stayed on An'zhina with the other **non-X-men** mutants, drinking a pina colada by the beach." She remained facing away from Jubilee.

"Well, there's that. But we X-men are the ones making change in the galaxy, fighting back against evil. I'll take that any day over sunning myself on some beach." She then grinned sheepishly and added, "Even though the X-men haven't been able to do much the last year. Or two."

"Whatever." 

Seeing that Dani had clammed up again, Jubilee asked, "So, do you wanna talk about it? I'm here to lis----"

"No." The answer was blunt.

"Okay. That's cool. No one expects you to be smiling happily and pretending like nothing happened."

Dani was quiet for a while before she asked, "So how's Rory?"

"She's great!" Jubilee said, very encouraged that Dani asked the question. "She's all potty-trained now. Cyke, Jean, and Hank and I have come up with a program to start educating the girls. It's hard to get her to sit still for more than a few minutes though. She's into everything." 

"How's your boyfriend?"

"He's okay." Her answer to this question was slower and more thought-out. "He's really homesick. He misses his parents and sister."

Jubilee then struggled to come up with something to engage Dani, but she came up blank. Most questions were so trite. ('What's new with you?' 'How was the paradise planet?') 

Finally, she found a decent one. "When Wolverine's back, you wanna start training karate with him again?"

"No."

More awkward silence. Jubilee wondered whether simply her presence would help, but she doubted it. Dani's back remained towards her; Jubilee might as well not have been in the room. Her eyes darted around the room and settled on the flute case that was flung into the corner of the room. She still had one ace to play. She knew how Dani responded to music.

"Mind if I play your flute?" she asked. She knew it wasn't exactly sanitary, but she didn't want to beam back to Freedom to get her own.

"Go ahead."

Timidly, Jubilee walked towards the flute case and opened it up. She hadn't been practicing much during the last six months. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd taken her flute out of its case. `Maybe this wasn't such a great idea,' she worried, as she gripped the cold instrument in her hands.

Jubilee played the song she recalled best, struggling to remember where to place her fingers and hitting several wrong notes.

Dani sat up in bed upon hearing one of her favorite songs massacred. She placed her fingers over her ears. "Simply awful!"

"Sorry," Jubilee said. 

"This was the best tactic you came up with to get me to sit up." 

"If you agree to have a meal with me and…Bobby and Storm, I'll stop playing. If you don't agree, I'll start the song again from the top!" Jubilee had created the ultimatum on the spur of the moment, though she knew Bobby and Storm would agree. She'd selected the two people she thought Dani liked best.

Dani sighed. "On one condition. No talk about….what happened."

"Deal."

****************

Jubilee hastily rounded up the group she had mentioned, arranging for Bobby to swap out his bridge duty shift and coaxing Sam into babysitting Aurora. Dani refused to leave the Vengeance, stubbornly declining to set foot on Freedom, so the meal would take place in the large, empty mess hall of the Vengeance.

"I am honored that you are willing to join us, Mirage," Storm said, as the foursome began to eat.

"Cut the formal crap, Storm," Dani said. Her tone was not angry; just straightforward. Bobby looked at the two women and guessed that their friendship had gone to that level where one could say whatever one wanted to the other and not worry about it being taken the wrong way.

"So, do you have a new code name or something?" he asked. "Mirage?"

"Yeah."

"What a cool name. How'd you come up with it?"

"I don't want to talk about that right now," Dani said.

"Fair enough."

"Isn't this salad great?" Jubilee asked. "Bobby, your greenhouse greens are the best."

"I do try," Bobby smiled. "But it's nothing compared to the food the natives had. I remember this bean dish they made…." His voice trailed off upon seeing the look from Dani. She clearly did not want memories of the natives or the Paradise Planet discussed now.

"I did quite a bit of cooking during my stay on board this ship," Storm said, her gaze in the direction of the preparation area of the galley. "It can be quite fun to prepare a meal from scratch."

"Isn't it?" Bobby enthused. "I tell you, if I was back on earth, I'd be preparing five-course dinners for Jean-Paul ---and for my friends, too. I enjoy doing it and it's a labor of love too." 

"So, what have you been up to while I was away?" Dani asked, looking at Bobby. Her voice had a flat tone to it, but it was not without sincere interest either.

"Oh, not much. Jean-Paul wants to get married and he wants us to have a baby." Bobby then muttered words to the effect of, "I'm not a 1950's housewife."

"A baby? So like how does he propose that the two of you make a baby?"

"He wants Jeanne-Marie to have the baby. With me. I mean, using my sperm. Jeanne-Marie's all gung-ho on this crazy idea too."  
  
"So are you gonna do it?" Dani asked. 

"No way. I mean, I don't wanna have kids – even though I like kids like Rory," he said, smiling in Jubilee's direction. "The marriage thing I'm cool with though – it would be nice to have a ceremony, you know – to make a commitment to each other publicly. But it's too early in our relationship for that. There's no need to rush. But the kid thing --- ain't gonna happen; I have no interest in that."

"How are the twins taking it?"  


"They're pissed as hell, of course," Bobby said, smiling. "And they're **so** pleasant to be around when they're angry."

Observing Dani's behavior, Storm felt encouraged. Dani seemed sincerely interested in talking to her old friends. Perhaps this would be something she could get through, Storm mused. But then she looked harder at the redness in Dani's eyes and at the way she picked at her food, and Storm knew that her friend would be grieving for a very long time indeed. 

*********************

"I think I'm going to give up command of the X-men."

"What?" Jean asked, nearly falling out of her chair.

"I've had it with being the leader," Cyclops declared.

Jean's eyes were wide. Scott was not one to make a proclamation just to get attention or a response. If he said he was going to do something, he did it. "Did something bad happen?" she asked, just as Charlotte ambled up to Scott.

"What wrong, Daddy?" she asked. She held her arms up, asking to be picked up.

"Daddy's okay, sweetheart," Scott said soothingly as he lifted her into his arms.

The precocious toddler did not know how to express her frustration. Adults lied; they said things that were simply not true. Her father was not "okay"; he was agitated. Charlotte had been talking for quite some time, but she did not have the ability to fully express how she felt, so she began to cry.

"There, there, sweetheart. It's okay. Daddy's okay," Scott murmured. He looked at Jean for assistance.

Jean glanced at Christopher, noting that he happily played with his toys in the alcove of their room that had been set aside as play area. He wasn't oblivious to his sister's distress, but he wasn't overly concerned about it either. Jean tried to refrain from making a judgement. Christopher was fifteen months younger than Charlotte, and it would be quite unfair to compare a child of twenty months to one who was almost three years old. Christopher didn't have his sister's mutant gift of empathy either.

"Sweetie, please don't worry about Daddy and Mommy," Jean said, approaching her husband and daughter, and gently stroking Charlotte's hair. "Daddy is upset, but he will be alright. You know that people get upset from time to time, but usually we're alright in the end."

"I know," Charlotte said. She couldn't form the words to express her distress over the way people covered up and denied their hurt feelings when they had them. But both of her parents continued to reassure her, and she calmed down.

"She'll always be a sensitive one," Scott said, once Charlotte had scampered off.

"Yes. I think it's not just due to her power of empathy. I get the idea she'd be sensitive no matter what," Jean said, seating herself down next to Scott. She took his hand. "But back to what you were saying….What's going on? Did something happen again today?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Storm's been back with us for less than 24 hours," he began. "But she already made the time to have a meeting with me and let me know that she's back as the co-leader."

"Nothing wrong with that," Jean said. "I mean, Scott, she **is** the co-leader." Jean surmised that this would not be a good time to mention that Storm had approached her about having another healing ceremony with the women.

"I know. But something about the way she acted disturbed me. It felt like she wanted to meet with me to show her muscle and remind me that I'm not the sole leader anymore. It just…it felt like a power grab." 

"A power grab? That's just not Storm's style," Jean said softly.

"I know. But that's really how it felt." Scott paused, and then said, "We talked about a few other things too; I gave her some updates. Then she told me a bit about what happened on the Vengeance. At one point she accused me of not showing enough….concern over Marrow's suicide."

"Really?"

"Yes. And, Jean," he began, with ardor in his voice, "it's not that I don't find it a tragedy that a mutant chose to take her own life. I do. But we're talking about someone who was an X-men for a very short amount of time, who routinely disobeyed orders, who left us without permission, taking one of our shuttles in the process. Someone who formed a vigilante group, torturing and killing people ---well, FOH soldiers, but **people** nonetheless – who couldn't be reasoned with, who made us sign an agreement not to interfere; made us turn over two of our team members for a time…." He forced himself to slow down. "It's regrettable that she committed suicide, but I think it's understandable if I'm not exactly overcome with grief over it."

Jean nodded. "I feel the same way you do. What I think we need to do is concentrate on helping Dani Moonstar."

"And that's pretty much what I told Storm! Then, when I wanted to move on to discussing another topic, that's when she got upset –or maybe 'impatient' is a better word – with me." He shook his head. "I am tired of being under a microscope and having every decision questioned. Look, I'm sure Storm's motives for meeting with me were good. She has every right to want to be updated on the happenings of a team that she co-leads."

"I'm glad you realize that, Scott." She could tell that his anger was starting to dissipate. Talking it through always seemed to help him, and she was glad that he was doing so. 

"Even taking that into account though, I am seriously considering stepping down."

At Jean's surprised look, Scott continued, "I mean, think about it. I've been leader of this team for a long time. I have different things going on in my life now, and I'd rather spend my time on the kids – and on you. I've been an X-man for almost twenty years, and been the team leader for nearly that long as well. That's a long time for any one person to lead a group. Maybe it's time to let someone else to do it." 

Jean easily picked up on an unverbalized thought of Scott's. //Let someone else take the criticism and get to experience their every decision being questioned.// The frustration of so many events was in that thought, years of decisions being questioned and analyzed. Years of being apart from the rest of the team, never being quite able to form the solid friendships the others had. 

"I certainly see why you feel that way," Jean said softly. They exchanged a smile; he understood that she detected his unverbalized sentiments. "May I suggest something?"

"Anytime, my love," he said.

"Please just give this some more consideration before you decide. You are a born leader, Scott. Your leadership –whether it's appreciated or not---provides a valuable service to the X-men and, by extension, to mutants everywhere. We have a functioning starship again, and we'll rendezvous with the rest of the group soon. We might be on our way to earth again before we know it, and there we'll need a strong leader. There are other good leaders on this team, but you **are** the best. And I know that Professor Xavier would agree that you are a tremendous leader. Please…think about it."

Jean's mindlink touched Scott's mind. She could detect that he was not overly angry or depressed. There was no cause for alarm, she determined (and could have guessed at that without connecting with his mind.) He was, however, quite serious about relinquishing command and his omnipresent insecurity was not helping.

"I'll think about it," he said.

******************

****

TO BE CONTINUED

Coming next – The reunion of Storm and Wolverine, and the final chapter in this epic! 

By the way, do you have any favorite fanfics? (Aside from this one. : -) ) Since I will have a little more time on my hands now that I'm not writing any more, I'd love to lose myself in a good X-men fanfic. Any recommendations?


	26. Chapter 26

****

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

__

And now…the final chapter

******************

After two days, the Vengeance had covered enough distance that Jean was able to make brief telepathic contact with Wolverine and the others in the Pryde. The shuttle reversed course and headed towards the Vengeance. The X-men anticipated that their rendezvous with the three would now be within just seven or eight days.

Jean walked down the hallway towards Storm's room. She looked forward to the healing ceremony. `We're so lucky,' she mused, thinking of the fact that the women on the team had this ritualized way to celebrate their friendship. 

She tried to brush aside the pull of tension she felt. Storm would always be one of her dearest friends. Her loyalty, however, had to remain with the man she loved. `That's the wrong way to think about it,' she said to herself. It was not –--and must not become – a case of Storm versus Cyclops. They must find a way to work through any power-sharing struggles. `I am in a unique position to help them do that,' she realized with resolve. 

It was amazing how these healing ceremonies put a person in a more reflective mood, Jean noticed. Just coming to that realization made her feel better. She wished that she had continued to host the rituals in Storm's absence but somehow no one – not Jean nor Rogue nor Jubilee – had suggested it during the six months Storm had been gone. Yet now that Storm was back with the group, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for the four of them to be sitting in a circle, in the darkened room lit only by candles.

Jeanne-Marie and Dani turned down offers to join them. Jeanne-Marie's rejection was not a surprise – she never attended the ceremonies – but Dani's was a disappointment. "She could really benefit from this," Storm had said. 

"And she usedta love them," Rogue had added. 

As soon as all four women had entered the room, Storm got up and lit the candles that surrounded their circle. She then turned the lights off.

"Feels just like the old days," Rogue said, looking at the faces of three of her closest friends. "Here we all are again."

"It feels like coming home," Storm added, seating herself cross-legged on the floor. 

"You are back home again," Jean said, smiling at the thought.

The women sat together, and wished for healing for Rogue from her miscarriage, and for Dani to heal from Marrow's suicide. They wished for a quick reunion with Wolverine and the others. They created and sent positive and powerful energy where it was needed.

***************

It was really an exciting time. We X-men were almost whole again, and as soon as we met up with Wolverine and the others, we would be one big family once more. (Well, without the Professor but his presence was always with us.) It was so exciting to have a functioning starship again too – who knew what lay ahead. Maybe we'd finally get to earth.

I was really glad that Storm and Dani were back, though Dani definitely was not the person she had been when she left with the Pirates. She didn't really talk much to me – or to anyone, as far as I could tell –- but I was still glad she was with us once more. I felt bad for her though. I guess I really had no idea what she was going through, or even what her relationship with Marrow had been like.

One day, I was tending to my vegetables in the green house. My plants were thriving, if I say so myself. I squeezed a few fat tomatoes and picked them from the vine, thinking of what a nice salad we could have that evening. I was even growing jalapeno peppers, which could be used to liven up any replicated dish (and which I'm sure Hector would like, when we met up with him in a few days.)

The door opened and Jean-Paul walked through. 

"Hello, amour," he said.

"Hi, love," I said, going up to him and kissing him. "What's this?" I asked. I could tell he was holding something behind his back.

"For you, my sweet," he said, presenting me with a bouquet of red roses. 

I was really touched, and I think my face turned pink as I handled the bouquet. True, with our now-ample supply of dilithium, obtaining a bouquet of flowers was as easy as pressing a few buttons, but it was what the flowers symbolized that meant the world to me. For a few seconds I was flustered, but then I pulled Jean-Paul into a hug.

"Thank you," I whispered. "I love them."  


I then sobered up and asked, as I released him from the hug, "So what's the occasion? Other than that we have a lot of dilithium now and can do stuff like this again?" And then a sobering thought entered my mind and I asked – hoping to sound half-joking – "You're not going to ask me to have children with Jeanne-Marie again, are you?"

"No, no," he assured me. "Why does there need to be an occasion? I just wanted to say that I love you. And," he added, "I hope we don't go through another period of not talking to each other again. After all we've been through together."

I nodded and looked down at the roses. "We have been through a lot together. It's such an insane galaxy we're living in….but I'll always be there for you, Jean-Paul. You know that, don't you?" I paused and, seeing his nod, continued, "There isn't much you can bet on in this galaxy, but I will always be there for you and always love you."

"I know, Bobby," he said, and gave me a quick kiss on the mouth. We hugged for a bit, though the large bouquet was between us. Jean-Paul released me from the hug and said, "I've been thinking, amour. I talked to Kurt this morning. We thought maybe it would be good for me to start up with seeing him again. So I'm going to go back into counseling -- or whatever you call it – with him."

I nearly had to stop myself from jumping into the air with joy. I settled for a fist-pump. Jean-Paul smiled at my happiness.

*************

"At least I got to see why everyone makes such a big deal out of the Paradise Planet," Dani said to Jubilee.

"I'm glad you got to see the beauty of the place," she responded, taking another swig of her drink. With the replenished dilithium supply, the X-men were free to replicate what they wanted – within reason – and Jubilee enjoyed an orange fizzy soft drink. She and Dani, along with Rory, lingered in the mess hall after lunch one day.

Jubilee looked across the table at Dani. She looked like hell. At least Jubilee had succeeded – after several days -- in luring her to moving her belongings and setting up a room inside Freedom. But no one had gotten her to talk about Marrow's suicide, which made Dani's remark about the planet all the more surprising.

"What did you do when you were there?" Dani asked. She was drinking something stronger than Jubilee's soda pop.

Jubilee opened her mouth to reply, when she had to turn her attention to her daughter. "No, Rory, put that down. You already had dessert."

"Want more!" Rory demanded, brandishing a cookie.

"No, sweetie. One was enough. You don't need another."

Rory flailed one of her arms and knocked over her mother's drink. The liquid poured onto her clothing, then dripped down to the floor.

"Great," Jubilee muttered. Rory then scrambled off towards the corner of her room where she'd left a favorite doll. Jubilee said, loud enough that only Dani could hear. "God, if I'd had any idea how much work this motherhood thing was gonna be…." She let her voice trail off. 

Dani wasn't one for uttering platitudes – not now nor ever, really. She handed Jubilee a clean towel to dab at her outfit. "It'll come out," she said, pointing to the wet mark on Jubilee's shirt.

"Yeah." Jubilee lowered her voice again and said, "I love her, but sometimes I wonder why in the hell I decided to go through with it." The words slipped out and Jubilee marveled as she realized something. Dani was the only person to whom she'd ever confided her mixed feelings about motherhood. She'd never told Wolverine, Storm, or Bobby. She'd never even mentioned it to Sam.

"**That's** what I remember most about our stay on the Paradise Planet. Being pregnant and having her," Jubilee said, as Rory headed back in her direction. Rory reached up to give her mother a hug, which Jubilee eagerly reciprocated. 

And then she quietly added, "And desire – I got it back, on the Paradise Planet. That's one of the things I remember from there. I was like all numb – sexually, you know --- for months before I got there. Sometimes I thought maybe I'd never get horny again. But it came back – the urge came back --- when I was on that planet." She smiled with sincere joy at the memories.

Jubilee saw Dani's eyes, looking and listening intently. Dani was just so easy to talk to. Jubilee thought back to the misguided pass Dani had made at her. It seemed so long ago, though Jubilee realized that not too much time could have passed. She began to wonder if she herself would be better suited to lesbian sex, at least from the point of view of the mechanics of lovemaking and at least based on what she assumed two women did in bed. Penetration didn't do much for Jubilee. She rarely orgasmed during the penis-in-vagina part, though she did respond well to clitoral rubbing and licking. Sam was generally happy to oblige, but still. Sometimes she felt like he was doing her a favor and sometimes he acted just a bit like he was doing her a favor too. She wondered what it would be like to have sex centered around the things **she** liked rather than the thing her partner liked. 

`Too bad I'm not at all attracted to women,' Jubilee concluded. 

"What are you thinking about?" Dani asked.

"Oh, nothing," Jubilee responded and she realized that her cheeks were just the slightest shade of pink. "Um, actually, I take that back. I was thinking of something. Dani, I – uh – I want to apologize. For what happened between us on An'zhina. I've been meaning to say this for a long time. I totally responded all wrong. I was an idiot for not going back to you right away and trying to make it better."

Dani looked downwards and didn't reply. It all seemed so long ago to her now. 

Jubilee was half-expecting her to wave her hands and say that an apology wasn't necessary and that she was the one who should be apologizing. But she didn't do any of those things. "I regret what happened too." Dani shook her head and said, her voice near a whisper, "What was I thinking?"

"Don't worry about it. You know….if something else ever happens to mess up our friendship, let's like try to deal with it next time. It's…it's worth it, you know." For a reason she couldn't explain, Jubilee extended a hand.

Dani took it. The hand was warm. "It's a deal," she said.

***************

Life was good for the 320 inhabitants of An'zhina, Charles Xavier contemplated early one morning. This he could tell without using his powers. The mutants were healing and growing stronger, day by day. He tried to put his worries about the X-men out of his mind. `Wherever they are,' he said to himself, knowing in his gut that they were not dead, `they will be safe. They know what to do.'

He and Moira ate breakfast together every morning on one of the back porches of the main building. They both rose at sun-up and were usually the only two people awake at that time. He smiled as she saw her approaching the table, tray in hand. She was still beautiful; he found that her wrinkles and age lines gave her face such character. Xavier took a breath of the An'zhinian air and tried to remember to be thankful for this achingly beautiful world, with the orange and pink sunrays bursting through the last visages of the night's darkness.

As they chatted amicably during the meal, Charles made a mental note to talk to John and Elaine Grey. Their family was doing well despite their worries over the whereabouts of Jean and Scott. Gail and Joe now appeared quite comfortable in their mutant skins and Joe still harbored aspirations of one day becoming an X-man. Sara Grey had broken up with Angel, but both members of the former couple appeared well and happy. Angel was now dating one of the other An'zhinian inhabitants.

Moira's husband and step-daughter were in good cheer. Siryn had just married her boyfriend Lisman. The Professor had been honored to conduct the ceremony. Banshee liked his new son-in-law and was delighted with the fact that Siryn and Lisman planned to have children soon. He wanted to be a grandfather. It might not be that long before Rob McCoy was no longer the only baby on An'zhina. Moira said that she was holding back her excitement until the day that the baby would be born. Once that day arrived, Charles knew she would be a beaming and doting grandmother.

The Professor knew that things could be better for Panda and her son Rob. He checked in with them occasionally but found that Panda seemed to open up most with Colossus's former love, Elena. He hoped that Panda might someday return to her X-men training, though thoughts of rigorous work did not seem to be on the minds of many An'zhinians. Charles found himself less bothered by that fact than he knew he ought to be. Most of the mutants without special powers had taken self-defense classes led by Angel, and they seemed to be content with that.

Todd wasn't causing any trouble, though Charles knew that might change if Bobby and Northstar ever returned. `**When**,' he silently corrected himself, `not if.' And the former FOH soldier Mark seemed fine. His friends on An'zhina were numerous, his days as an FOH soldier forgotten or forgiven by most.

Queen Marina was oddly absent. She normally allowed the mutants to live as they wanted but she used to make periodic contact with the group. No more. Charles felt perhaps she had withdrawn due to the fact that the X-men were gone.

"They will be back someday, Charles," Moira said, reaching to hold one of his warm hands. "You know they will."

The painful sense of loss stabbed at his gut once more. "I know," he said. He then pressed his lips together, wanting to smother the tears that threatened to prevail.

**************

The Pryde was beamed back inside Freedom's shuttle bay as the X-men stood around, eager to reunite with their three teammates, Wolverine, Shaman, and Hector.

Storm wondered whether the others could pick up on her emotional state. Jean turned her head and gave Storm a smile. 

Beforehand, Storm had stood inside her room, observing her naked body in front of a full-length mirror. The fact of the matter was that Storm would age and Wolverine would not. She knew that she was still stunning. But she also knew that she wasn't 25 any longer.

Her heart beat madly as the door to the shuttle slowly opened and the ramp was lowered. It had been seven months since they'd seen each other. `A person can change in seven months,' a nagging voice, buzzing inside her head, taunted. 

As the three walked down the shuttle's ramp, X-men swirled around them, rushing up to greet their friends as if they had not seen them for ages. Most seemed, however, to stay clear of Wolverine, giving him and Storm space. Looking at Wolverine as he walked down the ramp, duffel bag flung over his shoulder, the crowd between the two of them seemed to part. Her heart rate picked up when she realized his attention was focussed solely on her. Solely. Storm exhaled. `Of course it is. This is the man who took dancing lessons for me.'

***************

She wasn't sure how, but they ended up inside their personal quarters, seemingly a second or two after their eyes had locked in the shuttle bay. Storm was certain more time must have passed but she could not recall how or when.

Logan was showering. She recalled him saying, "The damn sink in the shuttle don't cut it." She smiled.

Storm had bathed just prior to the shuttle's arrival, enjoying a long bubble bath with aromatic oil. She always chose subtle, natural scents, not wanting to confuse or overwhelm Logan's sharp senses.

By the time she heard the water stop, Storm had lit six candles. The room was bright even with the lights turned off. She had been debating whether to greet him in the nude or wearing a sexy number. She finally decided on what she knew they both would enjoy the most.

Wolverine was towel-drying his hair when he emerged, naked, from the bathroom. He saw her and a look came over his face as if he wanted to lick his chops.

The towel was thrown to the floor. They embraced each other hungrily, kissing passionately. Storm's breath was nearly taken away. The feel of naked flesh against naked flesh was tantalizing to both. She ran her fingers through his damp hair.

"Love you so much, `Ro," he breathed, desperately.

"I love you too, Logan," she said, before crashing her lips against his once more. She had not forgotten the excitement of his tongue in her mouth, his rough stubble against her face, his hands roaming her body which soon would be glistening with sweat. 

Ever since the Pirates had let Storm go, she had wondered what this moment might be like. She had considered the possibility that she wouldn't want sex right away, that she might need some time to just cuddle with her lover, to talk, to reconnect. Sex, she had contemplated, might come later but there would be no harm in giving it time.

`All good ideas, but what the hell had I been thinking??'

She wrapped her hands around his cock, which had been stiff when he exited the shower but in the span of a few minutes was now hard as adamantium. He groaned. "Don't wanna go too fast for you, Ro," he whispered. He brought his lips to hers again.

She enjoyed the kiss for several moments, then breathed against his ear, "We can make love all day if we want. But round one can be fast – I need you inside me this minute!" She grabbed his hand and brought it to her core, which somehow was soaked already.

He groaned again and picked her up. His muscular arms lowered her to the bed, and she spread her legs. His mouth still against hers, tongue plunging inside, he entered her.

Storm gathered that Logan was trying to go slowly, allow her time to get used to the sensation of being full once more. But soon, he was able to pick up from her cries and frantic thrusts how serious her words had been. Her nails scoring his back, she moved her lower body against his, reveling in the purely animalistic pleasure of feeling his hard cock inside her. "Oh god Logan!" she exclaimed, as his tongue explored her neck.

He continued to pump her, his body aching with pleasure. He'd yearned for this moment for months on end, dying to have her soft body against his, to be inside of her, to have her wet lips kissing his mouth as he plundered her. He loved her aggression, the way she was wanting it as fast and hard as he did, the way she thrust up to meet each and every stroke of his. Later he would tenderly make love to her – and enjoy it as she did the same to him. For now, they would both obey the raw desires of their bodies. He pumped her harder.

"Oh god…..ohhhh," Storm breathed as her body spasmed. The indescribably good sensations spread from her loins throughout her body.

Logan cried her name as he began to cum, moments after her orgasm began. He kept thrusting, pouring every bit of his orgasm inside her. 

The couple lay melted together as the motions of their lower bodies slowed, and gradually ceased. For several minutes, they allowed their lips to leisurely explore each other's, as if to counterbalance the frenetic pace of their lovemaking moments ago. Slowly and languidly Storm allowed her kisses to roam Logan's face.

"Storm." He spoke her name, after he slowly rolled off of her. 

"Welcome back, Logan," she said, reaching to cup his face. Her breathing only gradually began to return to a normal pace.

"Same to you, darlin."

Their arms still wrapped around each other's, they kissed again. Logan relished his special homecoming. "You miss me, darlin'?" he asked.

She playfully swiped at him. "What do you think?" she asked, smiling. Storm then hoisted herself up and straddled his body. She lackadaisically played with the hair that covered his chest. "It was beautiful to the see the Paradise Planet again, but it just cannot compare with this."

"You were damn smart to get the Pirates to go there." Wolverine had heard the entire story, telepathically, from Jean.

"I truly had no idea that this would happen though," she said. "That Psylocke would let us go." She then bent forward, dangling her full breasts in the vicinity of his face.

Logan reached a hand to cup and fondle the beautiful breasts. He allowed a small, slow groan to escape, conveying his enjoyment. "God, Storm, you're so beautiful," he murmured. He gently squeezed one of her nipples. He repeated, whispering, "You are so beautiful."

She closed her eyes, feeling a new wave of desire beginning to spread throughout her body. The sensual feelings from her orgasm had not completely subsided either. 

"C'mere," he gestured. She bent her body downwards and Logan reached up so that he could suckle her breasts. He reached a nipple into his mouth and tongued it, as a hand massaged the other breast. Sitting upwards, he brought her large breasts together and hungrily sucked on both nipples at the same time.

"Oh Goddess," Storm hissed. 

She allowed him to continue his ministrations for several moments, before deciding to retake the lead. She broke from his grasp and repositioned herself towards his midsection. Storm reached for his manhood, which was already stiff again. 

After playing with and licking his cock for a while, Storm opened her mouth wide and deftly slid it inside the warm, wet cavern. She moved her head up and down on his shaft. One of his hands was threaded through her white hair; the other clenched the wet sheets. He was able to partially sit up so he could enjoy watching her give him head. Mostly he just gave way to the pleasure of the sensations that he had not experienced for so long. 

"I'm gonna cum," he whispered, moments before he began to release. Storm kept her mouth on him. Logan watched her through eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Afterwards, she licked a drop of the white substance off her lips.

"My turn," he said, never one to waste time. He bade her to lie on her back, and practically dove down in-between her legs. She'd spread them wide. With a shocking tenderness, he parted her lips. Her clitoris was large and swollen, and he could hardly wait to begin stroking it. Finesse wasn't his strong point, but he always knew what to do when it came to going down on her. He gently began to lick her outer lips.

Storm closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She knew she was in for a long – and rapturous – reunion.

*****************

Meanwhile, Jubilee and most of the others waited in the rec room. "Are we ever gonna get to see Wolvie again?" she wondered. She knew he and Storm had to have their reunion, but she missed him. It was so awesome, she reflected, to have both Storm and Wolverine back now. 'Assuming they ever leave their damn room,' she added to herself.

"We need him back here so we can have our meeting and plan our next step," Cyclops said, sounding impatient.

"Sheesh, what's with you people??" Bobby asked, annoyed. "He and Storm haven't seen each other for **seven months**! Have a little sympathy." Jean-Paul sat next to Bobby and smiled. He planted a delicate kiss on his lover's cheek.  


"Y'all know he's got that healin' factor," Rogue said. "We might as well call it a day and meet tomorrow." 

Remy, sitting next to his wife on the sofa, reached for and subtly patted her thigh. He fondly remembered the day after they'd first made love on the Paradise Planet. He had so enjoyed the congratulatory winks and nudges that he'd received from Bobby and Colossus the next day.

Cyclops looked around the room. "Good idea. Hell, what's one more day?"

***************

So the X-men would discuss their next move the following day, giving Wolverine some time to adjust to being home once more. They all knew the last thing the wild man wanted to do was sit in a meeting, and no one volunteered to tear him away from Storm's arms and bring him to a conference room.

After putting their children to bed, Jean and Scott settled into bed together, wrapping the warm blankets around themselves. They hadn't planned on making love that night, but Scott spontaneously initiated it. They were slower and less vigorous than the newly-reunited couple a few doors down, but their love for each other was no less intense. Afterwards, Scott fell asleep right away.

Slumber did not happen quickly for Jean that night. She usually had little trouble falling asleep and felt puzzled at her body's inability that night. Climbing out of the bed once more, she mentally did a brief check-in of the ship's inhabitants and the surrounding area of space. Nothing abnormal. She took several calming breaths, and then quietly resumed her place beside her husband, hoping not to wake him. 

Finally, she began to fade from consciousness and fall into the blackness of sleep. 

//Jean Grey? Is that you?//

Jean sat bolt upright in bed. Another telepathic consciousness had touched hers, and she knew instantly that it was not Psylocke. Her mind was groggy, and she had to concentrate.

//Emma Frost?// Jean asked.

//Yes.//

It had been a long time since Jean had contact with this fellow telepath. They had had limited dealings with each other back on earth, years and years before FOH had risen to power. Much more recently, Emma had worked in concert with FOH – in exchange for a smattering of freedom --- and had used her powers to counter the X-men during a few of their trips to earth. Jean had been on the last such trip, and she had fought off Emma during a few battles of the mind.

Panicked, Jean sat up in bed. How was Emma able to reach her here, so far out in space? Had Emma's powers been somehow increased exponentially? Jean then struggled to control and shield her thoughts, only projecting those she wanted to reveal. She was successful. 

//Where are you?// Jean asked.

//I am in space. I'm on a runabout with several FOH leaders.// A runabout was a space vehicle larger than a standard shuttle but much smaller than a starship like Freedom.

Jean immediately sought to verify Emma's words. She picked up the mental signatures of about five men, all in proximity to Emma. A few perfunctory scans revealed that they were, indeed, FOH leaders. One of them was the notorious General Smith who was – at least last the X-men had heard – FOH's supreme leader.

//What the hell is going on, Emma?// Jean asked. She noticed her husband now awake, sitting up beside her. Due to their mindlink, he could pick up traces of Jean's "conversation" with Emma.

//We're fleeing earth. We're looking for you.//

//Why?//

//Jean, the situation on earth is terrible. We're under attack by the Cetians…and some other group. We fled in this cloaked runabout. We've been trying to find the X-men for a long, long time. We were on our way to that moon where you have your base.//

// Give me some details. What's happening on earth?// Jean's impatience came across loud and clear over the mindlink.

//You know who the Cetians are, right?//

//Yes. In fact, last I recall, your friends in FOH sold three members of the X-men to the Cetians a few years ago.// Jean referred to the fact that the Cetians used to have an alliance with FOH. FOH had captured Wolverine, Gambit, and Bobby and had shipped them off to the Cetians. The X-men had rescued their teammates, and shortly thereafter, FOH terminated their relationship with FOH.

//FOH sold a lot of humans to the Cetians over the years. But they botched their relationship with the Cetians. And now the Cetians have teamed up with some…some sorcerer from god-knows-where. Earth is under siege. They've been raiding earth, beaming down and stealing our resources – our water, our oil, they're even tearing up our forests, what's left of them, anyway. They've been kidnapping thousands of people and taking them into space – for slave labor, I guess. They're killing anyone who gets in their way. Most governments have collapsed, infrastructures are falling apart, the people who are left are starving. Earth is becoming a wasteland. Jean, it's just awful. FOH doesn't have the firepower to fight them off. Or to restore any semblance of normalcy for the people.//

//I can't believe that. FOH has hundreds of thousands –maybe millions -- of soldiers and a huge fleet of starships. The Cetians' technology and weaponry were comparable to ours. With the fleet and manpower FOH has, I can't believe that they're not able to put up a fight.//

//It's that…sorcerer who's working with the Cetians. They call him Dagron.//

Jean's blood froze. Dagron. The man who had kidnapped her, desirous of her telepathic abilities. The man who had seized a shuttle the X-men had left on his homeworld and used it to begin constructing an armada. He must have succeeded. 

And the last words he had exchanged with Jean were "_You haven't heard the last of me!"_

Jean paused for another moment to ascertain the truth of Emma's words. She could tell that Emma wasn't giving her the whole story, but the thoughts she communicated **were** accurate. Jean doubted that Emma had the ability to pass off utter lies as truth, unless her powers had somehow increased tenfold.

//You know that I'm telling the truth, don't you?// Emma asked.

Jean ignored the question. Even without her telepathy, her gut told her of the veracity of Emma's words, as much as she wished to disbelieve them. //What about the mutants on earth? There are the thousands you have locked up in the FOH camps, and there are those like Pyro, Vertigo, and Avalanche who are working for FOH. Can't they fight back? FOH's army combined with a few hundred mutants should be powerful enough.//

//Hundreds of the mutants in camps were killed by the Cetians and Dagron's forces early on. Dagron had thousands of inhibitor collars. He was able to quickly subdue any sort of mutant resistance. The first few waves of the invasion were very swift and very targeted.//

//So you, and a few of FOH's leaders, were somehow able to escape earth in a runabout? You're with them out of your own free will, or do they have a collar on you?//

//Yes, we escaped together and yes, I'm with them out of my own free will. I couldn't have reached you telepathically if I had a collar on. We came searching for you X-men. You are the earth's last hope. Unlike the mutants in camps, you know how to fight. And unlike the FOH soldiers – or the mutants like Pyro and Toad – you know to fight as a team. You are probably earth's last chance for beating back this invasion.//

//And FOH **wants** us to help??//

//That's why the leaders are here. Well, we needed to escape to save our lives. But they are here also to ask for your help.//

Jean was silent for several moments. She was barely aware that Scott had turned on the lights and dressed. He was watching her intently. //You'll forgive me, Emma, if I can't quite swallow all this. It seems like a trap to me.//

//You're one of the strongest telepaths in the galaxy. Read my mind, or the minds of those with me.//

//I have. And how do I know that Dagron isn't somehow clouding things up?//

//You'd sense it if he were around here. But he's not. He's back on earth, pillaging what's left of the planet.//

'Pillaging.' Jean thought to herself. 'And setting a trap for the X-men, maybe?'

******************

I'm not much of a coffee drinker, but I needed the warm, caffeinated drink to help the wheels of my brain turn. I don't think it was helping to steady my nerves though. All of Freedom's inhabitants were now sitting around the main conference room, clad in bathrobes, pajamas, and the like. Shaman and Rogue were on "bridge duty" on the Vengeance, so they joined us via a video link.

"Sounds like we're in for the fight of our lives if we go," Jubilee said, once Jean had explained the situation.

"Jean, how certain are you of the truth of Emma's words?" Storm asked.

"She's hiding some things. But I think…based on what I can tell….her basic words are correct. From reading her minds and those of the FOH leaders with her, I can tell it is true that earth is under siege. The planet is probably in the worst condition ever, and they are truly desperate."

"Fascinating," Hank said. "And quite alarming too."

"I saw some horrific images," Jean added quietly. Scott had an arm around her.

I looked at Cannonball, and he looked like he was freaking. His parents and sister were on earth – or at least, they had been at the time he left it. I saw Jubilee squeeze one of his hands, but I'd never seen him looking quite that distraught. I vaguely wondered what had become of my parents and brothers, but I truly didn't have more than a passing interest in the question.

"Smells like a trap to me," Wolverine said. He looked tired and exceptionally grumpy. This meeting was taking place several hours after most people had gone to bed – I wondered if he and Storm could possibly have still been going at it. 

"We have an obligation to at least investigate," Cyclops said.

"We don't got any obligation to that shit-hole of a planet," Wolverine countered.

"I agree," Jean-Paul said. I turned my head to look at him. "We are not under any obligation towards earth." 

"If we decide to investigate, we need to be very careful," Storm said.

"Las' time we run in wit' Dagron, we escape drough the skin of our teet'," Gambit said. "We sure we wanna take him on again?"

"Look, people, we might not have a choice here," Cyclops said. "If he is taking over earth, we can stay away if we want, but what makes you think he's going to stop there? He'll probably hunt us down eventually."

Cyclops had a really good point, I had to admit. I looked around the room, sipping my coffee, thinking that our lack of enthusiasm for this battle had to be due to what we had suffered during the last few years. Torture at the hands of FOH, mysterious power at the hands of Dagron, slavery under the Cetians….we were not cowards, but we weren't masochists either. We had been through enough. We had faced the insurmountable before and survived, but this might be too much.

Jubilee spoke up, "I hate to sound like…..like a wimp, I guess, but maybe we should return to An'zhina. The Endarians could squash the Cetians – and probably Dagron – like a bug. We're safe there. None of us wanna walk into a trap."

"I do not wish to either," Hank began, "but I do not wish to forsake earth either." Kurt sat next to Hank and was nodding at his words.

"Why not?" I asked. "We've been in **exile** for the last four years."

"Yeah, earth sure has exiled us," Jubilee said. "I just don't feel like I owe it anything."

I saw the disappointed look that Sam gave her. Looking around the table, I saw a mixture of fatigue, fear, confusion, and several other emotions. 

"I suggest that we all go back to bed and try to get some more sleep," Cyclops said. "It might be difficult, but this is an important discussion….and it will result in a monumental decision. We need to have the discussion and make the decision when we're all more alert. We're not in any immediate danger now. Let's sleep on it and reconvene in seven hours." He looked at Rogue and Shaman over the viewscreen. "That will give you time to finish your shift and get some sleep, right?"

Rogue nodded. "We'll be extra vigilant," she promised. 

We started to get up out of our seats. "One more thing," Cyclops began. "Whatever we decide to do, we'll do it as a team. No one will be forced into participating in a battle they don't want to fight." He paused, and then added, "But if we are going to take this on -- and win -- we all need to be one united team."

****************

You know what it's like when you're handed a piece of information that changes your life? I felt that way when I learned that Jean-Paul had tested HIV positive. Your stomach drops, your future is muddled, fear frazzles your system, and nothing is consoling. Jean-Paul held me tight when we went back to bed and he miraculously was able to sleep, but I couldn't. 

Worries kept me awake. We X-men had defeated Apocalypse before and hadn't balked at going into battle then. Were the stakes any lower this time? Was it simply that we were older and had more concerns? Or was it what I had been thinking during the meeting, the fact that we had lived through different kinds of battles and torture during the last four years? Or did we just not care about earth any more? I wondered what the discussion would be like during tomorrow's meeting.

Jean-Paul woke up once and detected that I had not slept. "Go to sleep, amour," he whispered. "You always worry so."

"I can't help it."

"Can you really say you're surprised at what is happening on earth? We knew it was in trouble."

"But we didn't know it was facing a full-scale invasion. From the Cetians and Dagron, no less."

He sighed. "True. I wonder what the other X-men will want to do. I think that eventually they will decide that we should go back to earth and defend it." Jean-Paul's voice turned more tender. "Oh…um, Robere? There's something I've been meaning to say, but I have not been able to find the right time to say it."

"What is it?" I asked. I was actually glad at the prospect of having something to take my mind off of all this.

"Well, I wanted to apologize," he began, and I knew the words were not coming easily for him. "For flirting with Gambit in front of you."  


I was too tired to make a sarcastic comment such as `Which time?' or `Okay, just flirt with him when I'm not around.' 

Instead, Jean-Paul continued, "I mean that time back on the planet when we were sitting around the table outside." 

"Oh, that time," I said, remembering the incident where he'd placed his hand on Gambit's thigh. I was glad he apologized and told him so. I then added, "Any particular reason why you brought this up now?"

"Well, I had a meeting with Kurt today. He pointed out to me that what I did might have been about control. I mean, I did not think of this when I did it. I was not thinking this way or trying to be a jerk. But he kindly pointed out to me the way my subconscious thoughts might have been motivating what I did."

"Control, huh?" I asked. It made sense to me, as I tried to think of how my old therapist might have seen it. Flirting with someone else right in front of me did function as a means of showing me who was boss. I had tried to forget about the times he did something like that. But forgetting about them didn't make them just disappear. I suppose no relationship is or ever will be perfect.

He reached for one of my hands and found it. "I'm sorry, amour," he repeated.

I was gratified that he'd apologized; humility was not easy for him. So I told him I forgave him, and shortly thereafter I fell right asleep.

*****************

Very few X-men were sleeping that night. Jean and Scott sat up in bed, facing each other. Jean held Charlotte, gently trying to coax her back into sleep.

"I was very proud of you in there, Scott. Proud of what you said. You sounded like a true leader."

He gave a brief smile at the compliment, but the dismal plight of earth prevented him from taking any real joy from the moment. "You know where my thoughts are in terms of what we should do. Where are yours?"

Jean looked down. "If we didn't have the children, I would say that we should go to earth in a heartbeat. But what about the children? We can't lead them into such danger. I know that we might not be heading into battle….that we might go to earth just to investigate. But we also know that, chances are, a battle is looming ahead of us should we go to earth. I can't put their lives in jeopardy."

"I know. I feel such duty to go to earth, but we have our duty to them too," Scott said, heartbreak evident in his voice. He had arrived at the same conclusion as she. She vocalized the terrifying idea.

"One of us could leave for An'zhina with the kids in a shuttle."

*****************

"T'anks for tryin', chere. But I don't t'ink dat anyt'in's gonna get us back to sleep tonight. Why don't you get some rest?"

"I'm too stirred up to even think of it," Rogue said. Her bridge shift finished, she had returned to their room and been massaging Remy's back, in the hopes that at least one of them would enjoy some sleep that night. The prospects for that happening began to look more and more dim. Gambit rolled over and lay on his back, looking at her.

"You're the only person I can admit this to, swamp rat. I'm fuckin' terrified at the thought of goin' up against Dagron again."

"Me too, chere. We lucky we escape las' time." He sighed. "An' I never do what I told dose Nalarians dat I was gonna do – go an' help dem." Remy's deep guilt was evidenced in his voice.

"Well, you would be helpin' them, in a roundabout way, if we go back to earth and defeat Dagron," Rogue said glumly.

"I know. Is dat what you t'ink we should do?"

"I dunno, Remy. I just don't. Our chances of winnin' against the Cetians and Dagron can't be all that hot. An' I sure don't think that we owe earth all that much."

"Me neither. But we – but **I** -- told the Nalarians dat I help them. An' what Cyke say prob'ly be true. Dagron and the others ain't gonna stop at eart'."

"We could go back to An'zhina and stay there. We give Queen Marina the warning and I'm sure her people can come up with whatever defenses they need. Heck, they probably already have whatever defenses they need."

"Too bad we can't go an' ask her for help."

"We can forgit that," Rogue snorted. "She'd probably want in return an all-day sex orgy with all the X-men."

Rogue's comment was so off-kilter and unexpected that both members of the couple found themselves laughing. It started with a few giggles but they soon found themselves laughing uncontrollably.

"Dat helped," Remy began, when the laughter had subsided. "I feel less stressed now. An' you right, chere. We ain't goin' beggin' for help from Marina."

They were silent for a few moments. Remy looked into Rogue's eyes, searching. He saw that she had reached the same answer he had. "Deep down, chere, you t'ink we oughtta go back. An' help earth."

"I guess we have to," she said quietly. "I'd rather fight for our planet than tuck tail between my legs."

"Me too. We gotta do it. If we really the earth's last hope, we can't jus' back away. Dere are billions o' people on dat planet, and not all of dem hate us."

She nodded. "They ain't all responsible for what happened to us," she said, though she wondered how much of their silent complicity contributed to it.

She reached for one of his hands and held it. "Remy, if we succeed…let's have children. Let's give it another try."

"You sure you want dis, chere?"

"I'm sure. I've been thinking 'bout it for weeks. I never stopped wantin' a baby, I think. I jus' needed to get over what happened before." She searched his eyes. "But Remy….the question is – what do **you** want?"

He was quiet and thoughtful before he finally said, "If eart's wort' anot'er try, den dis can be too. I'd like to be a Pere. Let's try again." He paused and then added, "You know we might be in for anot'er heartbreak dough."

"I know. But I think we can handle it."  
  
"I got no doubt dat we can handle anyt'in fate sends our way."

She pulled him into her arms, savoring the feeling of his embrace and the strength she retrieved from their love. "I love you, Remy."

"I love you too, chere. An' I always will." 

***************

"We have not been blessed with the best of luck," Storm said. The two of them sat side-by-side on the bridge of the vessel once called The Vengeance. The captain's and first officer's chairs sat next to each other, and the expansive bridge was easily twice the size of Freedom's. Wolverine had joined Storm on her bridge duty shift; he had insisted on replacing Jubilee.

"Can't even get a damn full day together," he grumbled though he was never one used to having things turn out as he hoped – in fact, he had grown so used to the reverse happening. 

"You were sayin' that you were givin' up on earth," he then said. He was referring to a conversation they had during their reunion. Storm had spoken about the Paradise Planet; she'd told him of wanting to give up on the planet from which they came.

"I know. And how ironic that now the planet and its people truly need us."

"If Emma ain't lyin'. If we ain't walkin' into a trap."

"What do your instincts tell you?" she asked, looking at him. 

He met her gaze. As he looking to her clear blue eyes, he realized, "If Jean says Emma's tellin' the truth, then Emma's tellin' the truth."

"I, too, trust Jean's senses." She closed her eyes, shook her head, and sighed. "Feared and hated by a world we are sworn to protect," she breathed.

He listened to her words. He couldn't remember ever hearing that exact phrase before, but it seemed so familiar. "Guess that's what bein' an X-man's about," he said. 

She nodded. Every muscle in her body wanted to return to An'zhina, bask outside in the sun, and spend all day making love with the man she adored. "We cannot give up on our home planet. If it's a trap, we'll get out of it. We can handle anything that Dagron or the Cetians throw at us."

"I know."

With that settled, Wolverine had to bring up something else. It had been on his mind. "Alexander's got the hots for you," he stated.

"You can sense that," Storm remarked. 

"Yeah," he said.

"Then you could probably also tell that I found him attractive," she said. She meant it when she used the past-tense. Thoughts of Alexander had been gone from her mind ever since her reunion with Wolverine.

"Yeah."

"And you can also probably sense that nothing happened between the two of us. I am sure that your trust in me would have told you that too."

"Yeah."

"Logan," she said, placing one of her hands over his. "You're not one to want to talk about this kind of thing unless it's bothering you. So why is it bothering you?"

"I don't know, Ro. I trust you." He paused. "Guess it's a bit of good old-fashioned jealousy."

Storm knew that it was somewhat puerile, but she couldn't help but to take a smidgen of pleasure from his jealousy. `Shame on me for that,' she thought to herself. 

"You have nothing to be jealous of, and you know it," she told him. "My heart belongs to you."

He leaned towards her and kissed her. "And mine to you, Ro," he said, before reaching for another kiss.

The doors to the bridge slid aside and Jubilee entered. Storm and Wolverine quickly broke apart. "Jubilee, what are you doing here? You should be resting," Storm said.

"That's why we told you to go back to your room," Wolverine added. 

Jubilee wanted to make a sarcastic remark like, 'Thanks Mom and Dad,' but bit her lip instead. Besides, it would be obvious to them in a second or two that she had been crying; that she needed a mother and father. She could not express how happy she was that Storm and Wolverine were back with the X-men now. She sobered at the realization that her joy would be very short-lived.

"What's wrong?" Wolverine asked, when she moved closer. "C'mon, sit here," he gestured.

"Sam's gonna go on this mission," she said, her voice full of sorrow. "Nothin's gonna keep him away from it. He wants to see his family again."  
  
"And you?" Storm asked, though she already knew the answer.

"I can't take Rory into this! We know that no matter what happens, it's gonna mean a big battle – or lots of big battles, and lots of danger for us. I- I want to be there, but I just can't. Rory and I are gonna have to take a shuttle back to An'zhina. It's the only way." Overcome with guilt, Jubilee once more wished that she had not become a mother. 

With that, Jubilee resumed sobbing, though this time softly. She had spent most of her tears when she had the conversation with Sam. Storm and Wolverine said little, though they put their arms around her and tried to console her. Wolverine was glad that Jubilee and Rory would be away from the danger. Being separated from them would be like having his heart torn out, but it would be better than watching what would happen should Dagron, the Cetians, or FOH get their hands on them. This was more painful now, but better in the long run.

"I'm gonna miss you all so much," Jubilee cried.   


"And we shall miss you," Storm said. 

"You know we will," Wolverine added. 

"Storm, you gotta take care of Dani. Both of you. She was starting to open up to me."

"I promise that I will take the utmost care of her," Storm vowed. 

Jubilee remained with the two of them, talking a little but mostly just taking a measure of comfort in their presence. 

After at least an hour had passed, the doors to the bridge opened once more.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Cyclops asked.

"Of course not. Come right in," Storm said.

He forced a smile. "I thought that calling for a seven hour break would allow people a chance to sleep, but I don't think anyone has." He then walked up to where Storm sat. "Can you and I talk for a moment?" he asked.

"Of course," Storm said. He looked in the direction of the door, so Storm then quietly asked, "Somewhere else?"

He nodded, and she got up to lead him to a nearby conference room. Not knowing the lay-out of the Vengeance, Scott followed Storm.

When they were both seated at a table, he asked her, "How would you feel about leading the team on this mission?"

Storm furrowed her brows. "What about you?"

The agonized look on Scott's face told the story. "Jean and I have been discussing it all night long. Charlotte and Chris have to go back to An'zhina. We can't take them with us on this type of mission. And we **need** Jean to be on this mission – we won't have a prayer without a telepath."

"So you are going to return to An'zhina with the children," Storm said.

"Jean and I don't see any other way. We talked about every other possibility." Indeed they had. Guessing that Jubilee might return to An'zhina with Rory, they had discussed entrusting their children to her care for the journey until Jean's parents could assume primary care for them on An'zhina. But they could not do that to Char and Chris, depriving them of both of their parents. They considered having Jean return to An'zhina with the kids, but both knew that the X-men would have an abysmal chance without a telepath on the mission. They even considered asking Psylocke to help, to fill in as the telepath on the mission -- but she was far too untrustworthy and very unlikely to agree to help anyway. The X-men did not have an iota of trust in Emma Frost either. Another possibility was to stay together as they reached earth, and then have someone return to An'zhina with the children, should the situation be as dismal as Emma said it was. But that option created too much risk; the X-men knew they were unlikely to find anything safe or pleasant on earth, even if Emma had not been telling the entire truth. The closer they got to earth, the lower their chances of bringing the children to safety. Jean and Scott's options dwindled until it became obvious that they would need to separate. 

Storm nodded. "I will greatly miss having you as a co-leader. But I can do it. With the help of Rogue, Wolverine, and Hank," she said, listing the field commanders. 

"I know you can do it. Thank you, Storm," Scott said. He never dreamed that his desire to abdicate leadership would come true so quickly, and in such a heart-wrenching way.

Then Scott's communicator sounded. "Scott, it's Hank. I hope I am not waking you."

"No worry about that, Hank. I haven't slept at all."

"May I speak with you for a few moments?" Hank sounded as if he had not slept either.

"Sure," Scott said. He checked his timepiece out of habit. Still several more hours to go before the X-men were to regroup and make their final decision. "Give me five minutes and I can beam over to your room. I'm on the Vengeance now."

"Thank you," Hank said, and turned off his communicator.

Scott looked at Storm. "Thank you," he repeated. 

"I wish you best of luck. I know that this decision is heartbreaking for you and Jean."

The word 'heartbreak' didn't even cover it, Scott thought as he walked to the transporter room. He would have the better end of it, he knew. Jean would be bereft of both her husband and her children, and she would have to face whatever awaited them on earth. 

********************

"You are both my friend and leader," Hank began, once Scott had seated himself on the chair inside his room. Hank sat on the edge of the bed. "I find myself in the midst of a dilemma and I would appreciate your advice."

"Of course," Scott said. Hank's opening words were music to Scott's weary ears. Fleetingly, he wondered why Hank had not sought out Bobby instead. "What is on your mind?"

"I do not know whether to return to An'zhina or proceed to earth with the X-men. I am making the assumption, of course, that the X-men will decide as a group to investigate the situation on earth and fight against the Cetians and Dagron's forces."

"That's probably a safe assumption," Scott said. "From those I've been talking to, at least."

Hank nodded. "I have an obligation to the X-men. I am both doctor and scientist. My skills would be useful in numerous situations. However, I….." Hank had to cease speaking for a second or two, as his voice nearly broke. "Scott, I also have an obligation to my wife and child, whom I have been neglecting."

The room was silent for a beat or two. "You must feel really torn," Scott said, nodding. 

"Yes, I feel as if I am being split into two pieces. You know how seriously I take my duty to the X-men. And yet I also have a duty towards my family. My son is a stranger to me, and I feel as if Panda has become one as well. The duration of our separation has not been extensive, but it is still significant. This mission on earth will require a far longer separation." Hank paused and continued, "We know that any trip to earth carries risk with it. This mission carries the risk of confrontation and conflict with forces that might be superior to ours. We might not all return alive."

Scott fought to listen to Hank's words and squelch his own heartbreak over his impending separation from Jean. His heart pounded with abject fear when he considered the danger Jean would face during the mission. As he fought the sickeningly horrifying thoughts, he closed his eyes and wished for a second or two that he and Jean had never been born mutants. 

Hank looked closely at Scott. Having known him for nearly twenty years, he could guess the other man's emotions even though the visor hid Scott's eyes. 

"Scott? Is there something….?" Hank allowed his voice to trail off.

Scott told him, even though he did not want the information to influence Hank's decision. "I won't be going on this mission, Hank. Jean and I can't put our children in that much danger. One of us needs to return to An'zhina with them, and it can't be the one of us with telepathic powers. Storm will lead the mission."

Hank nodded. "The thought of being separated from Jean must be brutal for you." He paused and added, "If I do not elect to return to An'zhina, I shall miss you, my friend."

"Hank, you have time. This is a big decision, and you have a lot of time to make it. Don't rush. Even after our meeting, we're not going to just turn around and fly off for earth." He then digested his friend's words and said, "But if you go with the team, I'll miss you too, Hank."

Hank stood up. "I understand that a decision does not need to be made imminently, but our discussion has assisted me greatly in sorting through my thoughts. I think I have reached my decision. My love for my family is no less strong, but my duty to the X-men and to the people of earth must take precedence. I will go on this mission."

Scott stood up and spontaneously hugged Hank. The X-man leader knew he soon would be making many such sorrowful farewells, but none would compare with the misery of parting from Jean. 

********************

During the last few hours prior to the meeting where the X-men would decide their fate, Jubilee went around to those whom she knew were awake. She knew what the result of the meeting would be, and she wanted to say farewell privately. 

"Shit, it's not gonna be the same without you," Bobby said, hugging her tightly. He did not know how close he came to being deprived of his best friend too.

"I know," Jubilee said. Having cried her eyes out during the past few hours, she hoped a fresh round of tears wouldn't start. She and Sam had cried together more than Jubilee would have ever imagined. Bobby held it together, which was helping Jubilee to do the same. "Rory's gonna miss you too."

She bid goodbye to Moonstar. "Thanks for helping me these past few days," Dani said. "You really did help. I'm gonna miss you a lot."

Jubilee couldn't explain why, but her tears began anew even while Dani remained stoic. Perhaps deep down she sensed that her departure was putting Dani through another round of agony, the last thing her torn-open heart needed.

Upon seeing Jubilee's tears, Dani sought to console her. "It's okay," she whispered, pulling Jubilee into a hug. "You'll be okay," she murmured. One hand tenderly stroked Jubilee's hair before the silently rebuked hand was withdrawn.

***************

Dani was able to sleep for just a couple hours. She did dream. She envisioned that she was back on the Paradise Planet, playing her flute while Marrow danced to the music. Marrow was smiling; the lines of pain and rage on her face had softened. 

Dani woke up to the jagged sounds of the alarm, signaling her that she had less than twenty minutes before the X-men's meeting. She threw herself into the shower and dressed, the cold water assaulting her skin even as her insides remained numb.

**************

Rogue and Gambit each slept for an hour or so as well. When they woke up, they talked about their dreams. 

"I dreamed I was flyin,'" Gambit said. "Don't know how, but I was flyin'. We were on some mission on eart'."

Rogue's eyes grew wide. "Yeah, an the rest of the X-men were in the Blackbird right behind us. And I just knew we were gonna win, even though I felt kinda scared too."

"Dat's what I dreamed too! We must'a had the same dream," Gambit said. 

"Maybe it was the mindlink we got, makin' a comeback," Rogue smiled.

*************

We had the meeting after that interminable night. I grimly sat around the table with everyone else, the oatmeal I'd eaten sitting in my stomach like a lump. I really wanted to be back on An'zhina, feeling the sun and sipping drinks by the beach instead of heading off for a mission that was sure to bring unfathomable strife. But An'zhina was far away. (So far, in fact, that it was not even feasible for us to stop there and use some of the dilithium we'd stockpiled.)

  
Cyclops started off by telling us that, should the X-men vote to return to earth and face our enemies, he would not be joining us. He explained that he had to ensure the safety of his children. "Storm will make a more than capable leader." He then said, "The question of whether or not to return to earth and take on this mission – potentially going into battle against some very tough foes – is a huge one," Cyclops said. "I would like each person to say what they think we should do."

"If we all speak like this, there is a risk of group-think," Storm cautioned.

I saw Rogue smile. "With this group, hon, I don't think you gotta worry about that." Her comment provoked several smiles. 

"So let's hear from everyone," Scott said. "And I don't want anyone to just nod. I want to hear each of you say what you think we should do – and what you are willing to do."

Storm nodded at Jean-Paul, "Would you like to begin?" she asked. He was sitting to her side. 

"I don't want to go," he began. "But it is the right thing to do."

"If we go, will you be fully committed to it?" Storm asked him. I can't exactly blame her for asking.

"You don't need to question my commitment, Storm," he said. He didn't come off as curt as he could have. "I don't do anything half-hearted."

Jeanne-Marie was next to her brother. She said, "I'm for it. I will go." We had spoken just before the meeting. She desperately wanted to see her son again.

I was next, and I voiced support for it.

Dani Moonstar sat on my other side. I felt some energy from her. "I'm proud to be an X-man. I want to defend earth. I want to go on this mission, but may I ask two favors from the group?"

"Of course," Cyclops said.

"First, I want to be called Mirage, not Dani. I have been training a lot and I think I have a lot to show you. And so I want you all to use my codename." She paused, and then said, "Secondly, I ask that we have a memorial service for Marrow."

Storm and Cyclops looked at each other. It was kind of an odd request, granted. Or at least an odd time to make such a request. "Of course, Mirage," Storm said.

We continued to go around the table, voicing our opinions. 

Wolverine – "Bastards on that planet fear and hate us. But I'm gonna fight for them one more time."

Hank – "Yes, let us defend the earth. It is what we are called to do."

Cannonball – "I agree with what he said. 'Sides, there are plenty of mutants on earth who need out help too."

Jubilee – "I wish I could go with you." Most of us had already said goodbye to her. "But I gotta take care of my Rory."

Rogue – "I'm for it too."

Gambit – "Me too."

Jean nodded. Her face was red and tired. "I will use my powers to defend the earth against its enemies."

Shaman – "Let us fight for the earth and her people."

Hector – "I'm behind it."

Nightcrawler – "As am I."

Alexander had already expressed his desire to join the X-men. He did not possess any "combat" powers, but everyone thought he had a lot of potential for becoming a skiller fighter. He would need training, and we were more than willing to work with him. Besides, he added the added attractions of being a doctor and his unique ability to turn things into food. "I'm completely with you," he said.

Scott then smiled at Storm. "I'm thrilled that Storm will be leading you on this mission. I know that you are all in extremely capable hands. And I know that each and every one of you is as well trained as you ever were. You are a strong and powerful group, capable of handling almost anything. Whatever is happening on earth, I know you can take care of it. Even though I will be leaving you temporarily, I know that you will all return triumphant." Scott's sometimes comes across as wooden. He didn't this time, though. He paused and then seemed to swallow. "I want to thank each of you for giving me the chance to be your leader for so many years."

And then Hank spoke. "I cannot speak for the rest of the group," he began. "But I wish to thank **you**, as well, for your leadership, Scott. You led the X-men into countless battles, many of which seemed impossible when we embarked upon them. We always emerged victorious. Throughout numerous trials and tribulations over the years, your leadership was always steadfast, brave, and valiant. Thank you."

And then a rumble went out through the group. One by one, we each thanked Scott. Even people who had never seemed to particularly like Scott – such as Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit – said a few words. There words were sincere, honest, and appreciative of his leadership over the years. I thought of what he sacrificed to cure Jean-Paul and felt a guilty lump in my throat. When it was my turn, I lowered my eyes and said, "Thank you, Scott."

*****************

Cyclops and Jubilee were assisted by the others as they packed the childrens' belongings – and their own – into the Pryde. It would be a tight fit inside the shuttlecraft, but they would have to make do. 

The playset that many of the group had assembled together would have to remain behind. It fit inside the shuttle but left room for little else. Jean Grey watched as Wolverine and Gambit carried it to a storage room. There would be no need to house the playset inside the rec room any longer.

"I'm sad," Charlotte said quietly, to her parents. 

"We are too, sweetie," Scott said. "We are too."

Christopher began to cry. Jean followed shortly thereafter. The family had stayed up all night, talking together and weeping. They had said their goodbyes then, and didn't want to repeat the experience in the shuttle bay. Seeing – and sensing -- her mother so disconsolate over their impending separation was almost more than Charlotte could bear.

Jubilee and Rory were crying nearby as they bid their farewells to those she had not reached the previous night. Jubilee had reached most of the ones she really wanted to say a proper farewell to. She didn't want to face Sam again, didn't want to speculate upon what their separation might mean to the future of their relationship. He had seemed so hurt that she was not going to be part of this mission. She ushered Rory up the shuttle's ramp just before a new round of tears began to emerge from her depleted body.

"Jean, my soulmate, my love," Scott whispered, standing outside the shuttle as he ran his fingers through her hair. He knew that most of the rest of the group was standing around but he didn't care. 

Jean was sobbing too much to speak extensively. "I never thought my powers were a curse…until now," she managed. "I don't know how I'm going to survive without…." she let her voice drift off after that. They had said everything there was to say last night. `We can tolerate this because we know it will only be for a finite period of time,' they had said. They hoped the mission would not turn into an epic struggle lasting for years, though they knew that was a definite possibility.

The couple exchanged one last kiss before Jean left the shuttle bay. Rogue, standing not too far away, averted her eyes. She was eternally grateful that she and Gambit would not have to face a similar situation. She couldn't imagine having her heart torn out, as Jean surely was now. `At least she's got us – her friends,' Rogue thought. `We're gonna be there for her."

Cyclops bid goodbye to each of his teammates, one-on-one.

"Please give this to Panda," Hank said, handing him the disc that he'd given to Wolverine for his aborted return to An'zhina. Hank had since added on to the disc. He was not without hope that Panda would understand, though he bore no false optimism either.

"Of course," Scott said. 

"I shall miss you, my friend." He and Scott hugged.

Scott then found himself shaking Wolverine's hand.

"Take care of yourself," Scott said.

"You too," said Logan. He then added, "Sometimes the right thing to do ain't the easiest. You're doin' the right thing."

Scott nodded. He then scarcely believed his ears when Logan said, "You've been a damn good leader all these years." He had expressed similar words during the meeting earlier, and hearing them a second time seemed to make them more real.

Moments later, Scott found himself sharing a brief hug with Storm. "I wish you the best of luck," Storm said.

"I'd wish you the same, but you don't need it, Storm. You know what to do."

She nodded at his compliment. "Thank you, Scott."

Bobby and Northstar were next in the line of those wishing to say their goodbyes to Scott. 

"Take care of Bobby," he said to Northstar, as he shook his hand.

"I will. I think he will take care of me more, though," Jean-Paul smiled.

Bobby extended a hand but found himself instead pulled into a hug by Scott. He overcame his surprise quickly enough to say, "Thank you for everything you've done. Especially what you did on An'zhina," he whispered. 

"You're worth it," Scott said.

He then shook Rogue and Gambit's hands. They didn't say much other than wishing each other the best and expressing hopes that they would be reunited soon. As with the rest of the X-men, the sentiments expressed weren't lengthy but they were sincere.

Scott then boarded the shuttle with the weeping Jubilee and the three crying children. 

"Daddy, when we see Mommy again?" Charlotte asked, as the cloaked Pryde exited the shuttle bay and then accelerated to warp speed. 

"I hope it will be soon, sweetheart. It might not be soon, but I hope it will be."

*****************

"If we survive this, will you marry me?" Jean-Paul asked.

"When we get to earth, find me a nice diamond ring, and it's a deal," I smiled. 

We X-men renamed our starship. It would not longer be called Vengeance, but rather Victory in hopes that we could bring some lasting peace to earth.

So that was it, and we were heading back home. We had fifteen X-men and an entire planet to save. But somehow I knew Cyclops was right. We were going home. The struggle would be long and grueling, but we eventually would win and we would all stay together. Once the battle was finished, I didn't know if we'd settle on earth or return to An'zhina, but I knew that in the end, the X-men would ultimately triumph. 

THE END

******************

FINAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR - 

I would love to hear your feedback on the trilogy. Please contact me at stormkpr@usa.net. In particular, let me know whether there is anything that you did not see happen in the story that you wanted to see happen; therefore if I do ever pen a sequel, perhaps I can include it.

I have a few statistics you might (or might not) be interested in about the trilogy. The Heavens Open is the longest book of the three. In Microsoft Word, the number of pages each book takes up is as follows:

X-men: Friends of Humanity – 443 Freedom – 397 The Heavens Open – 460 

(Taken together, it comes to exactly 1,300 pages. I swear, I didn't plan it that way!)

This entire trilogy took over three years to write. I began in October 2000 and finished in December 2003. As far as writing the books themselves, The Heavens Open took me the longest to write – partially because it was the longest one, and partially because I've had a lot going on in my life during the last two years. I began The Heavens Open in February 2002 and finished in December 2003. By contrast, Freedom took me less than one year to write. I used to strive to write one page per day, but I had a harder and harder time keeping up with this self-imposed quota So in the end, I just tried to focus on quality rather than speed.

I never intended to write a 1300 page epic. I began "Friends of Humanity" with just the idea for the first two chapters. Once I'd written them, it became apparent that I couldn't end it there, so I just kept on writing, as the ideas continued to sprout.

Ask most writers what they like about writing, and honest ones will tell you that feedback from readers is high on their lists. I'm no exception. Reader feedback has been one of the reasons I've continued writing. Readers have even influenced outcomes of the various sub-plots. For example, as I wrote Freedom, I debated whether or not to have Storm and Wolverine finally come together as a couple. However, reader feedback was so strong in this regard, that I took the wise council of my readers, and I think it worked for the best. 

And now it is my turn to say a few thank yous. First, to my regular beta testers: Leigh, Ann, and Severine. Each of them has contributed valuable feedback, made strong suggestions, and influenced the trilogy for the better. I am honored at their attentiveness and loyalty. And also, thank you to all the readers who have stuck with me during the years and taken the time to write me a note or leave a review. 

A fourth book in the series is not out of the question, though I don't have any immediate plans to write one. I look forward to taking a break from writing, but who knows? I might write a fourth book in the series, or I might write another X-men fic. (Though maybe not one so lengthy….) 

Thanks again for reading, and best wishes!

Stormkeeper


	27. Epilogue

EPILOGUE  
  
It's been nearly three years since I've written. During that time, I've had hardly a spare moment to sit in front of a computer let alone pick up pen and paper. Hard to believe that it's been almost seven years since I've rejoined the X-men, but it seems like a lifetime ago to me. Yet now I can finally sit down and write from where I had left off. I can only dream of having the time to write out all the details like I did before, but this will have to do for now.  
  
We won, of course. I shouldn't say "of course", as there were times when I thought we didn't stand a chance. When we reached earth, we were found right away by Apocalypse, who had been in hibernation all these years. We teamed up with him – knowing full well that he'd betray us later on --- to push the Cetians back to their planet and defeat Dagron once and for all. After that, we kicked Apocalypse's butt when he turned on us. I make it sound easy, but trust me, it wasn't; nor was it a quick war. Perhaps someday I'll tell you the whole story but I guess for now I want to dwell only on the happier things.  
  
Professor X and Cyclops rejoined us at a critical point. When Scott and Jubilee reached An'zhina, he left his children with their grandparents and then Scott, the Professor, and Angel boarded a cloaked shuttle bound for earth, to join us in our efforts. They saved us at a point when things seemed hopeless but that, too, is a tale for another day.  
  
When the dust settled, earth was in shambles. Heck, the dust is still settling and it will take decades for the planet and all of its inhabitants to deal with and begin to recover from the devastation. Millions had been killed or transported back to the Cetian home world during the wars and we have not the resources to mount a mission to bring them home. FOH had been running the governments of most countries, but FOH had been the first targets of the Cetians and Dagron. Governments, industries, schools – everything had been wiped out across the whole planet and millions were facing starvation. Our planet's natural resources had been plundered. The chaos we faced in putting things in working order was comparable to life on board Freedom after freeing people from a mutant concentration camp – multiplied by a billion or two.  
  
When the worst of the bedlam was over, Jean Grey and Dani Moonstar boarded one of the few operable starships and trekked towards An'zhina. Jean went, obviously, to see her children again but also because she was mentally exhausted --- we had relied on her telepathy constantly during the war. I watched them leave, wistful for An'zhina. The last time I'd left that moon was when the X-men set off to retrieve our shuttle from Dagron's homeworld, and I'd had absolutely no idea that I'd never return. I think I'd even left a few personal items back in my room on An'zhina.  
  
When Jean and Dani reached An'zhina, they retrieved anyone who wished to return to earth, promising that someone would return again for those who wanted to consider it later on. Eventually, about 100 mutants decided to remain on An'zhina. In that first group, among those returning with Jean and Dani were Jean's children, parents, sister, niece, and nephew, as well as Jubilee and Rory, Panda and her son Rob, and Moira MacTaggart and Banshee. I can only imagine Jean's (and later, Scott's) delight at being reunited with her children. I was most happy to see Jubilee and Rory again, and I was shocked at how much Aurora had grown!  
  
We rebuilt our mansion. Not as big or as elaborate as the old one – it had become clear for everyone on the planet that we could no longer live as large as we had --- but it suffices. It's actually more of a headquarters than a mansion but we all still call it "the mansion". The location of the new mansion is not far from the one that FOH destroyed seven years ago. It serves as our base as we undertake the activities to get this planet running again: serving as peace-keepers, repairing and rebuilding, providing medical attention, counseling the grieved, and on and on. We are in and out of the mansion all the time on different missions all over the world. I generally work about 10-15 hours a day, every day, and I think most X-men work at least that much, if not more. So you see why I haven't had the time to write so much.  
  
So let me tell you how we're all doing. I'll start with the man who is still my best friend. Hank is working harder than probably everyone. He and Panda are still married, though they are seeing a marriage counselor together. He manages to make time for it during his amazingly busy day, which has to demonstrate to Panda how committed he is and give her reason to forgive him. Panda seems okay now. I was going to write "happy" but I think that would be a lie. "Okay" is more like it. She just began to attend medical school at one of the recently rebuilt universities located in Switzerland; Nightcrawler teleports her there every day. Hank says she's progressing well in her studies.  
  
Their son, my namesake, is polite but a little withdrawn. I've made overtures, attempting to get to know him better but he's not interested. I don't like to entertain the idea that perhaps Panda turned him against me, but it is a possibility. Anyway, I think Hank and Panda's marriage counseling is helping as they've talked about wanting to have another child someday. But right now, they simply do not have the time.  
  
Hank's free time is little and far between. We hang out when we can but it is not unusual for weeks or even a month or two to pass with us seeing each other only at an occasional breakfast at the mansion. His work and his family come first, though in what order I'm not sure. But, you know, when we do get the time to sit down together, snacking and watching a cheesy horror film, it feels just like the old days again and I'm happy.  
  
Jubes and Sam broke up. Sam was devastated when he found out that his family had been killed. He always seemed so steady, I never thought he'd take it so badly but he had a breakdown. Kurt's been helping him a lot but by the time Jubilee rejoined us, Sam was a different person. So, perhaps, was Jubilee. Sam's become very religious and he seems basically alright now but there was a time when we all were really worried about him.  
  
Jubilee is fantastic. She missed the war and maybe that's a good thing. She's herself, just a bit older, but still with the same zest and love of life.  
  
And Mirage is doing well too. I was bowed over by her use of her powers during the war. She helped tremendously. You might wonder why I skipped from Jubilee to Dani/Mirage. Well, let me say that they share a room at the mansion. I asked why and was told it's because of limited space at the new, smaller mansion. I don't buy it for a second. Someday I wanna know what happened during their trip from An'zhina to earth, but they're keeping things quiet now and I have to respect that.  
  
And I love Rory. She's great as always. In my spare time, we play and watch movies. I know I'm one of her favorite uncles.  
  
Speaking of children, Jeanne-Marie got her wish. No, I haven't become a father (thank you, God) but Hector "Wraith" Rendoza has. You read that right. I guess at some point he told her he'd always wanted children, having come from a large, Mexican family. The Jeanne-Marie of old, Jean- Paul tells me, would've been horrified at the possibility of having children with Hector's mutation. But this Jeanne-Marie didn't care, and she gave birth to identical twin daughters. And no, I don't know if the twins were conceived the normal way or whether some type of insemination process was used. From Jean-Paul's hints, I suspect it's the former but I don't ask. Jeanne-Marie and Hector are not married, though they are both taking their co-parenting roles very seriously.  
  
The girls were named Veronica and Esperanza ("Esperanza" being the Spanish word for "hope"). They are both mutants, but the nature of their mutation is unknown now. Unfortunately, I know that their birth cannot make up for the loss of Jeanne-Marie's son Stephan. From what we could piece together, he was killed during one of the early Cetian/Dagron attacks. But because it was wartime, no one is certain exactly how he met his fate.  
  
So basically Jeanne-Marie and Hector having children together has worked out well for everyone. Jeanne-Marie and Hector are both parents, as they wanted to be. Jean-Paul is a very involved and very doting uncle, more or less as he wanted. And me, I spend a decent amount of time with the twins too but have thankfully managed to avoid changing too many diapers.  
  
Jean-Paul and I won't be having kids of our own, but we did have a blessed event. Reader, I married him. Without hesitation and without doubt of our love. (And without too many decorations either; the days of fancy An'zhinian weddings where you could replicate whatever your heart desired are gone). I knew I was marrying a stubborn man with a controlling streak, but I also knew he was caring, loving, and heroic. (If I ever do sit down and write about the battles we faced, I will tell you more of Northstar's heroism.) Everything we've lived through over the last several years has brought us much closer together --- and I think you can say that for most of the couples.  
  
We had a small ceremony in the mansion, and I got teary when he read his handwritten vows, saying "my love, if I had four lives to live, I'd live them all with you." After the ceremony, we were met with hugs, kisses, and congratulations. People scraped money together for gifts after we'd begged them not to. No honeymoon though. Too much to do and not too many "honeymoon" type places to go anymore with everything still being rebuilt, so much of the planet having been basically trashed. Someday, maybe, we'll find a place to honeymoon when we're not working as peacekeepers, or repairing roads, or training freed mutants how to control their powers, advising fledgling governments, monitoring former FOH leaders or any of the other hundred things the X-men work on now.  
  
But we do joke with Rogue and Remy, who are still very close friends of ours, about some day the four of us taking a starship to the Paradise Planet to have the honeymoons we never did take. At the rate we're going, we'll all be sixty by the time this can happen but returning there someday is a dream we all share. We could hang with the natives, dance, watch sunsets, check in with Psylocke, whatever. Some X-men, myself included, talk half-seriously about retiring there once earth is in better shape. But that's a long way off; we probably will be sixty by the time our work is anywhere near done.  
  
And Rogue and Remy are still very happy together. That much is evident; their happiness is almost palpable in the air. Remy had a close call during one of the battles, so I know they treasure every moment together. He had more than his share of injuries too, including a serious knee injury. Neither Hank nor Shaman has been able to repair it fully and Remy often has trouble getting around.  
  
Rogue and Gambit don't have children. They tried once more but again miscarried early on. They told no one --- I didn't even know they had been pregnant again until a while after the miscarriage. Once Rogue did open up with me, she told me they were both okay without kids but that maybe when they were older, they'd consider adopting. There are millions of war orphans they can choose from. But kids or no kids, you don't see a more content or loving pair than Remy and Rogue.  
  
Storm spends much of her time in Africa. Between the already-rampant poverty, wars, and AIDS crisis, her native continent was already in trouble before the Cetians and Dagron arrived. Storm is like a machine, helping communities to rebuild, learn, cope, survive, and even thrive. Jean-Paul flew me there a few times to help and I can only marvel at what Storm does. If we all had a fraction of her energy and caring, the world's problems would be smaller.  
  
She and Cyclops are officially co-leaders of the X-men again, and Storm did a STELLAR job leading us during the war against the Cetians, Dagron, and later Apocalypse. I am still in awe of her.  
  
Wolverine spends about half of his time with Storm in Africa, and the other half working on the same kinds of things that all the X-men are doing around the world. And he still goes off by himself once in a while. I don't have the kind of relationship with either of them where I can pry for details of their lovelife, but Rogue tells me that Storm and Wolverine are great – still in love and enjoying the time they have together.  
  
Well, since I'm on a roll with the couples, I may as well go to Cyclops and Jean next. I suppose it will not surprise you if I say that they are in love as always. The time they spent apart during the war – and there was a lot of it – only seemed to intensify their love. They are inseparable now.  
  
And despite what others might think, they haven't had it easy. Jean's father passed away after a brief, but agonizing, bout with cancer. Jean's nephew Joe has been struggling a lot too. This war and these times are harder on the psyche than anyone can imagine, and there are some days when we all wish we'd just stayed on An'zhina. Joe's problems seem to be more than the typical adolescent drama.  
  
But Jean and Scott's kids are well. Charlotte is brilliant, calm, and thoughtful and she has "leader" written all over her. Christopher is more aggressive and loud – maybe bold is the word I'm looking for. He could be a strong leader someday too. He's not as diligent in his studies as Charlotte is, much to his father's annoyance.  
  
There are rumors floating around that the father of a baby girl that Queen Marina bore a few years ago is Cyclops. (The baby, supposedly, the result of that night he spent with her in order to acquire a cure for Jean-Paul.) From what I can estimate, the timing would have been about right, but I can't get the real scoop on this from anyone. Both Jubilee and Dani know something, but they aren't talking. If it is true, I'd imagine it might put a strain on Jean and Scott's relationship. But they seem closer than ever, so either it's not true or it's not hurting them.  
  
So who am I missing? Shaman and his family, and Moira and Banshee all are well. Kurt perhaps has the busiest schedule after Hank. Counseling is in big demand; I heard an estimate that between 85-95% of the population is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I truly don't have time to share even a taste of the agony that most of the people in the world have suffered during the past few years.  
  
Warren died during the war. I wasn't surprised; he kind of lost it when he learned that we had teamed with his old arch-nemesis Apocalypse. We were never close (understatement) but I do regret his loss.  
  
Mark Burroughs, the former FOH soldier, works with us and lives at the mansion. He's a solid and steady worker. He was attacked one day by some former FOH soldiers (we've not been able to locate, arrest, and try all of them. Tons of them escaped.) He's okay now but he always carries weapons, which we've trained him well on.  
  
Alexander, the mutant who the Pirates rescued, is a full-fledged X-man. His power to create food and his skills as a doctor have put him in high demand. He and Storm are still close. I've seen Alexander and Storm spend some time together during her trips to the mansion, and sometimes they even go to dinner along with their significant others. (Alexander has a girlfriend. She's not a mutant. She's absolutely gorgeous too.)  
  
The women continue their healing ceremonies. Us guys talked for a while about doing something too until finally a few months ago, a bunch of us just went out for beer while the women held their ceremony. We joked that we should call it a Beer Ceremony. Even Kurt and Cyke went along and we actually had a blast.  
  
But when we returned to the mansion, we found a tragedy. Professor X had just died. Peacefully and calmly, in his sleep apparently – at least that's the best Jean could figure it. We stood around his body, all of us X-men, holding each other and sobbing. He's now followed his old arch-enemy Magneto in death, seven years later. We X-men were consoled by the fact that we all were together during this time.  
  
We knew the immense stress he'd been under had to have been a part of it, but as Cyclops said during his speech at the funeral, there was perhaps more to his death than that. The Professor accomplished just what he had set out to do decades ago. The planet that had spurned us, cast us into exile, now realized that we were its saviors. "Feared and hated by a world we are sworn to protect." We had protected the world, and the fear and hatred that non-mutants used to feel for us are fading as they realize what we have done. Content with this knowledge, the Professor perhaps realized he could pass into the next world. So he is gone from this one but with us always. We will continue to proudly carry on his legacy forever.  
  
THE END  
  
Note from the author: I plan to eventually write a few vignettes/short stories to update you on the lives of the characters. I may even write one that goes back in time and more fully explores an event that took place during the trilogy (a deleted scene, like on a DVD!) 


End file.
